Reanimation Gospel
by Kae Aleah
Summary: They had to go back, no doubt about it anymore. Rick and a small team went back to Atlanta to get Merle, who he had left handcuffed to the roof, but when they got there the only thing they found was his severed hand a mysterious person at the scene. First in the Survival Creed.
1. Vatos Part 1

**VATOS PART 1**

The Seventh Gate of Hell reared its ugly head in the shape of the burning Georgia sun. The rays scalded their eyes and skin the moment after leaving the darkness of the stairwell. It took only a fraction of a second to adjust to the light, but no sooner had hope filled their hearts it all crashed down and faded away, despair and shock suddenly ripping through their very essence. Daryl came to a halt, his feet rooted to the ground as well as everyone behind him, staring in absolute disbelief.

Merle was gone..but in his place was a short-statured person standing only a few feet away from them, staring at them in silence. He wore what looked to be an army-like coat that went down to his knees. Heavy, thick, and a dark shade of green with many buckles and pockets on it. A hood was over his face and a thick gray scarf covered the nose and mouth.

It took Daryl a good five seconds to process what he was looking at when his eyes fell to the floor, only now noticing a puddle of blood at his feet along with the severed hand of his once older brother. The skin was starting to turn an ugly shade of gray from decomposition. He bit down on his lips to stop them from quivering before snapping his head up at the hooded person. "The hell did you do to my brother?" Daryl aimed his crossbow and didn't even wait to hear a response, firing at the stranger.

The hooded stranger's visible eyes grew wide with alarm. He instinctively took a step back and ended up tripping over his own boot, falling back as the arrow soared right over his head, barely missing as it sailed over the edge of the building.

"Son of a bitch!" Daryl pulled out his large hunting knife and held it in front of him.

The stranger pushed to his feet as fast as he could just when the knife got inches from his face. He made a quick maneuver and linked his arm with Daryl's, yanking him ahead of him and tripping his legs. The moment he dropped to the ground the stranger made a running start across the roof. Across from him was another office building with a rooftop in jumping distance, like he was going to make the grand leap across the gap to try and escape from them.

"Stop him!" Rick yelled. He tried to run after him but the guy was at least five times faster than him, seemingly crossing half the length of the roof in just two strides. "He's trying to jump!"

T-Dog came in from the side and managed to intercept him when he was at the edge of the building. He went in low and with all his might and football achievements, tackled the man to the floor. The stranger went down hard and had all the air knocked from his lungs.

"Glenn, help me with this dude!' T-Dog yanked the stranger up by the arm while Glenn grabbed the other one. The guy was quite thin so it wasn't hard to keep him down.

Daryl pushed himself off the ground and his face contorted up into an awful scowl. "You son of a-" He would have ended that man's sorry life if Rick didn't push him back. "What did you do to my brother? Did you kill him?" He shouted at him, veins popping up in his neck.

"Daryl, back off." Rick kept his arm up to stop him from taking another step. "We just got here. We don't know what happened." He looked back at the stranger that ceased to struggle anymore. He lifted his hand to the front of the hood and yanked it back to see who this person actually was. At first, they were taken back, but then it made sense...only because it was a woman.

Her gray, gun-metal eyes peeked up at them from under her lashes, calm and as steady as water. The girl was quite short and young-looking. Maybe only 5'3 and in her mid-30's. Her hair was brown but also had a reddish tint to it that made it shimmer in the light. It was a bit messy-looking and held back in a loose ponytail. Her face was withered though and thin from hunger. Her full red lips were also cracked from the lack of hydration too.

* * *

The woman was relaxed but silent while they removed all her weapons and supplies. Under her thick green coat was a shoulder holster that carried two guns, knives on both her sides and a hidden one under her right sleeve, attached to her wrist. She also carried a small satchel with her that had extra magazines, a simple first-aid kit, half a bottle of water, and some granola bars. She didn't carry much but it was enough just for her.

"We'll start with the basics," Rick began while moving in her line of sight. He made sure to speak gently to not startle her but this woman was already oddly calm. She was probably the calmest one on this roof right now, and she's the one tied up. "What are you doing here and what's your name?"

The woman hasn't said a word to anyone since her capture and kept her eyes forward on the horizon, watching the sun as it fell very slowly. She was most likely judging how much day-light she had left before the sun made its final descent behind the buildings of Atlanta.

She blinked a couple of times before looking up at Rick, staring into his eyes like she was debating to even speak or not. "I thought I was going crazy." the woman finally said, a voice a bit rough from dehydration but still quite soft and warm. "I was hearing a voice echoing off the buildings...so I went to check it out."

Everyone seemed to listen in more urgently when she said that, even Daryl was starting to look concerned.

"A voice? What was it saying?" Rick asked.

She shook her head. "I'm not sure. I couldn't make out much. There was a lot of complaining and a lot of..choice words. It also had a southern drawl, like yours." The woman gestured to both Rick and Daryl.

Glenn frowned and thought it over for a moment. "So she was just here at the wrong time?" he said because that is how it was starting to sound.

Rick could agree to that. "And your name?" He then saw her hesitate and shy away from the question. "Look, we're not here to hurt you. We were in the wrong when we first attacked. We won't do anything like that anymore. We just want to know what to call you." He then pointed to himself. "Hey. I'm Rick Grimes. That's Daryl, Glenn, and T-Dog."

The woman looked between everyone before she took in a deep breath. "Natasha Creed," she introduced. "You see...I use to live in Atlanta when...the outbreak happened, and I was here when they dropped a bomb on it. I saw the whole thing from my window and was out the door in an hour. I was barely able to escape back then."

"Why did you come back?"

"I was low on supplies." It was a simple answer that now made a lot of sense, now that they knew she had very little on her. "I'd figured people would have left a lot of things behind when Atlanta was abandoned. I actually use the roofs to travel, staying off the streets as much as I can...for obvious reasons," her voice was grim with those last words.

Rick slowly nodded his head. "You got a group?"

An emotionless void shifted into her eyes and her words were flat. "No. I've been on my own for a while."

Rick raised a brow but then noticed something around Natasha's neck, something glimmering under the sun. A silver ring with a diamond head that dangled loosely from a white piece of cloth. He felt his heart sink. "You're married?"

Natasha looked down at her ring and lifted it up into her hand, fiddling with it for a bit. "No, but I was engaged...for a time," her voice dropped. "Like a lot of people...he didn't make it." Her eyes moved up to Rick and saw a wedding band on his finger as well. "What about you? Do you still have your family?"

Rick looked down at his ring. "Luckily I still do."

A weak but genuine smile crept to Natasha's red and cracked lips. "That's good to hear," she said honestly.

Daryl seemed to be the only one who didn't care and cut into the conversation. "Are we really believing this horseshit?" he shouted loudly, still angry since his brother's still missing.

Natasha was quick to defend herself, speaking as calmly as she could to try and defuse the tension this man was creating. "I don't even know your brother. I'm sorry but...the roof was empty when I arrived."

"Like hell I'd believe that!"

Rick could understand Daryl's frustration but he could see that Natasha really had nothing to do with it. "Listen, if she really had sawed your brother's hand off than there would be blood on her hands. She's clean. And secondly, why would she even do that in the first place? If she had wanted to kill him than she could have easily shot him." There was no indication of a gunshot at all. He could only come to the conclusion that Merle was gone when Natasha arrived.

"He's right." Natasha cut in. "If your brother was still handcuffed when I got here than I could've easily gotten him out, but the point is though...that he was already gone when I got here." She gestured her head to the puddle of blood. "My guess...I think he might've used a tourniquet to stop the bleeding because there would've been a lot more blood if he hadn't. There's a trail of blood leading back inside. I was going to follow it, see where it went, but you guys showed up before I could do anything." Natasha lifted her hands in a defensive manner to show them that she truly meant no harm. "Look...If you still want to keep an eye on me, then that's fine. I just ask that you don't shoot me all because you're feeling a bit jumpy."

Daryl scoffed and looked between everyone, seeing no one disagree with her suggestion. "Fine. But you're going first."

Natasha took a deep breath and thinned her lips. She got up, careful not to do it fast in case these guys still didn't trust her. She didn't blame them though for feeling jumpy. The situation everyone was in, including her, was pretty bad. Walkers crowded the streets of Atlanta and the chances of getting out alive were very slim. When she first entered the city she had to use every back entrance and alleyway known to man to get inside. If Natasha didn't already have a good layout of everything than it would've been a lot harder. Luckily, she was light on her feet and was good at moving around in places undetected.

"Can I have my stuff back?" she asked.

Glenn was the one who looked through her bag and was currently holding onto it. He glanced toward Rick to make sure it was all right before handing Natasha back her supplies and weapons.

Daryl cased a glare towards T-Dog since he was the one responsible for dropping the key to the handcuffs down the drain. "You got a do-rag or something?" T-Dog handed one over and Daryl got down on one knee to get a better look at Merle's severed hand. It was an ashy gray color, already in the process of decay. "I guess the saw blade was too dull for the handcuffs. Ain't that a bitch." He wrapped the hand up in the rag and put it in the back of Glenn's backpack.

Natasha pulled her hood back over her head and wrapped her mouth and nose up with the gray scarf. She did this to be on the safes side since she didn't want to catch any kind of illness from the rotting Walker flesh, not to mention it was good to keep a low profile whenever she had to sneak around someplace.

"Whenever you're ready," Rick said and waited by with everyone.

She slid her knives back into their sheaths and glanced at the group from the corner of her eye. "Fine. Let's go."

They walked over to one of the doors that the trail of blood led and headed inside with Natasha leading the way. The lighting immediately got darker the moment the door was closed behind them.

Natasha made extra sure to keep her ears peeled for any kind of noise that Walkers would make. Gurgling, growling, and shuffling feet. Things like that, but not too soon had that thought crossed her mind her stomach plunged to the floor. There were shuffling footsteps with wheezing and moaning sounds. Natasha was sure it wasn't Daryl's brother because the putrid smell of rotting flesh penetrated the fabric of her scarf and burned her nose. She reached down to the handle of her knife and slowly slid it out of its sheath, peaking around the corner to see if she could get a layout of what was around her.

There was a single slouched figure a few feet away from where she was. Its clothes were rippled dirty. The skin also had a dark and grisly shade of brown and ash.

Natasha waited for the Walker to turn away before she quickly snuck up behind it. She snatched its shirt and roughly yanked it back, thrusting her knife straight through the back of its head. It's growling and thrashing ceased in an instant and it slumped down at her feet, her knife dripping with what looked to be brain matter and rotting flesh. It was like a bomb of nasty smells exploded the moment she penetrated the skin. The blood smelled of spoiled milk mixed with rotten eggs that were left out in the sun for a week. It probably would've been worse if Natasha wasn't wearing a scarf already.

"Coast is clear," Natasha called out and tried to fling the blood off her knife before putting it away.

"Not bad," Rick said and came out from behind cover, also spotting two other Walker bodies on the floor. They were still pretty freshly killed so it could only mean Merle who did it.

Daryl walked over the corpses. "Had enough to take out these two sumbitches. One-handed. Toughest asshole I ever met, my brother. Feed him a hammer, he'd crap out nails."

"Any man can pass out from blood loss, no matter how tough he is." Rick reminded and followed after Natasha as she carried on. "Where does the trail go?"

"Kitchen." she pushed open the double doors leading inside. "Smart. It's where I would go if I lost my hand." Natasha pulled her scarf down a bit when she started to smell gas, soon spotting a stove that was still lit. "Over here," she gestured with her head

The stove was covered in splattered blood with Merle's belt laying against it, and burnt substance hanging off the edge.

"What's that burned stuff?" Daryl eyed it with a face twisted in disgust.

Rick got a better look and narrowed his eyes. "Skin. He cauterized the stump."

Natasha bit down on her lip and adjusted her scarf so she wouldn't have to smell it. "You do what you can to survive. I can get where he's coming from." She frowned to herself since something was still itching in the back of her head. She turned around and wandered off to look around.

"Told you he was tough. Nobody can kill Merle but Merle." Daryl said.

"Don't take that on faith. He's lost a lot of blood." Rick looked around when he noticed that Natasha walked off. "Natasha?"

"Over here," she called, stepping out from behind a corner and waving them over. "He broke a window and left."

They walked over to where she was standing and saw a shattered window leading to a stairwell outside. There was even a blood-soaked rag on the ledge. Merle was gone though. Long gone.

"He left the building? Why the hell would he do that?" Glenn stuck his head outside but saw nothing, as expected.

"Why wouldn't he? He's out there alone as far as he knows, doing what he's got to do. Surviving," Daryl said.

"You call that surviving?" T-Dog looked at him like he was insane. "Just wandering out in the streets, maybe passing out? What are his odds out there?"

"No worse than being handcuffed and left to rot by you sorry pricks. You couldn't kill him. Ain't so worried about some dumb dead bastards."

Rick clenched his jaw. "What about 1,000 dead dumb bastards? Different story?"

"Why don't you take a tally? Do what you want. I'm gonna go get him." He made a motion to leave before Natasha placed a hand on his chest to stop him.

"Hold on for a minute," she said calmly but Daryl roughly slapped her hand away.

"Get your hands off me! You can't stop me!"

Natasha felt her hand sting a bit but held it up in front of her. "Just hear me out. I understand why you're frustrated. He's family. I know he can't get far with his injuries, but going out there on the streets? That's hard to do with all the Walkers out there, even for me, and I know these streets better than anyone else. I grew up here so I can help you out." She glanced at Rick to make sure that was all right. "Is that fine?"

Rick nodded his head. "We'll appreciate the help," he said. "We can check a few blocks around but only if we keep a level head."

Daryl pondered on it for a bit. "I can do that."

T-Dog, on the other hand, looked somewhat reluctant. "Only if we get those guns first. I'm not strolling the streets of Atlanta with just my good intentions, okay?"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Bet you weren't expecting this. A new story with a new character to follow. Truth be told, I rewatched the Walking Dead recently and it reignited this old character of mine that I had tucked away. So I watched the show, took down some notes and fine-tuned Natasha. I changed a few things from my original idea of her but she's still the same. (She was originally called Maira Creed but I thought that sounded too weird, so I changed it.) We'll get more background on Natasha and her fiance as the story goes on, mainly in season 1 and 2.**

**Let's be honest with each other. Everyone who watches this show had a crush on Daryl, right? It's not helping it that he's the biggest badass next to Rick. I always wanted to make a story for our guy and I'm so happy I got around to do it. So I truly hope you'll like Natasha. **

**This is going to be a random update story.**


	2. Vatos Part 2

**VATOS PART 2**

Rick's face twisted with concern while he stared at their new friend. Natasha had taken the time to try and explain the plan to everyone about how they were going to get the bag of guns from off the Walker flooded streets. "I don't think it's a good idea. Just you two? Alone?"

Daryl bluntly chimed in. "Even I think it's a bad idea and I don't even like you much."

Natasha let out a defeated sigh and mentally slumped down into herself. She knew she was already skating on thin ice with these guys but she figured that the predicament they were in right now could overlook their views on her long enough to get things done. Unfortunately though, that doesn't seem to be the case. They were still highly suspicious of her, not to mention they've only met her an hour ago. Natasha kept herself collected and tried to push for the idea. "It's a good plan, I'm telling you." She tried to convince them but Rick, Daryl, and T-Dog only looked at her like she was insane.

"No, no, no." Glen promptly called out. "I agree with Natasha. It's a good idea. Listen. I get what she's talking about. " He reached over and grabbed a black clip and placed it on the map that Natasha drew on the ground with a marker. "This is the tank, five blocks from where we are now." He grabbed a crumpled up sticky note and placed it beside the black clip. "That's the bag of guns. Here's the alley I dragged you into when we first met. That's where Daryl, Natasha, and I will go."

This surprised Natasha when Glenn tried to support her plan. He had the most dangerous job out of the four, so she was truly taken back to know that this man would put his trust and life on her hands, faster than anyone would accept her. "You sure you want to go with me? I just threw out a plan. You don't have to take it if you don't want to risk it." Natasha just had to ask, wanting to make sure he was alright with the plan. If anything, she would rather do it herself but that's obviously not going to happen.

Glenn nodded. "No, no. It's fine, really." He gave her a reassuring smile that Natasha was thankful for. "I trust you'll have my back."

Daryl cocked a brow. "What I wanna know is why you're bringing me if this chicks going with you." He saw Natasha at the corner of his eyes mouthing the words '_This chick?_' with a confused eyebrow arch.

"Your crossbow is quieter than his gun," Glenn explained then gestured to Rick. "While Daryl waits here in the alley, Natasha and I will go and grab the bag."

It took a moment but knowing that Glenn was onboard made Rick rethink everything and was beginning to see the good reasoning behind Natasha's plan. "You got us elsewhere?" he asked her.

She took her hand and pointed down to the map that had another alleyway drawn on the floor. "I'd figure it would be best for you and T-Dog to be here."

"Two blocks away?" Rick saw where she was pointing and this only confused him. "Why?"

"'Cause Glenn and I might not be able to go back the same way. If something happens or if the original path is blocked off, we'll be heading in your direction. With both ways covered, the chances of ALL us getting out alive is more likely." She took a breath and looked between everyone else, hoping that this would be fine with them. "Is everyone alright with this?"

She was forced to wait in a large ball of anxiety for at least a minute as Rick, Daryl, and T-Dog exchanged looks. She was finally given her answer as a great deal of relief washed over her.

They all nodded their heads.

* * *

Natasha released the last bar of the ladder and fell into the alleyway. Her feet struck the ground and she immediately scanned her surroundings to make sure there were no walking corpses on the narrow road. She wasn't sure if it was clear or not so she made sure to go down the ladder first before anyone else did. Once she realized everything was clear she signaled up for Glenn and Daryl to come down.

They hastily sped over to the very edge of the alleyway that had a gate at the end, leading out into the streets where 'they' wandered. It was because of this gate that Natasha chose this alley. If things went wrong then they could close the gate to give themselves the opportunity to slip away if needed.

All three of them stopped and hid behind a dumpster to keep out of sight.

"You got some balls for a Chinaman," Daryl said to Glenn.

"I'm Korean." he corrected annoyingly.

Natasha peeked out from behind the dumpster and saw a hoard of Walkers just mindlessly hobbling around in the streets, groaning and grunting to themselves. Luckily there were few and far between so there was enough room to run around if necessary, which was a good thing for Natasha, but she would rather not waste any time and just grab the bag and leave before a lot notice them.

She made sure her jacket was situated correctly and patted down the fabric around her arms and neck area. All her knives were in place and in their holsters too. The only thing left was to wait for Glenn to start moving. "It should only take 15 up to 20 seconds to grab the bag of guns. Right after we'll come back." She looked over up at Daryl while he got his crossbow ready. "So make sure to close the gate when we get back, okay?"

Daryl didn't pay much attention to her concerns. "Yeah, whatever."

She didn't tear her eyes away though and was finally fed up enough to hit him on the leg, not hard, but enough to finally make him look at her properly for once in his life. She spoke firmly and made sure every word she said was clear to him. "I'm serious, Daryl. Close the gate as soon as we come back. If you don't then it's going to get ugly." Natasha promised with every bit of stubbornness that she could muster.

Daryl scoffed at this woman's assertiveness, despite her having a point. "Yeah, yeah." He wasn't stupid and he knew he had to close the gate once they got back. The only thing he had to worry about though was how long it actually was going to take.

Glenn finally jumped out from behind the dumpster and moved swiftly into the streets where the smell of decaying meat lingered densely in the air. Natasha hovered close behind him but was far enough away to take down any Walkers that saw him and not her. It made it easy to dispatch them when they started to slowly lurk towards Glenn. They were slow as all hell so it made things easy.

The seconds rolled on by as Natasha counted them out. It's already been 10 seconds since they started moving through the Atlanta streets with more and more Walkers starting to take notice of them. Even without looking she could hear their moans and grunts started to turn aggressive. They would spin around and began to limps towards her and Glenn, all the while attracting more walking corpses.

Glenn final saw victory in his line of sight when he noticed the bag of guns. They were in a police duffle like Rick said they would be and right by the still-dead tank. Glenn's fingers curled around the bag straps and he yanked it up quickly, only now noticing just how many more Walkers were around them. Fear plunged deep into his heart and froze him stiff. "Tasha?" he weakly called out, looking over his shoulder just in time to see her take out two Walkers that were sneaking up behind him. He jumped back into action when their bodies hit the floor.

"Don't stop." Natasha seethed urgently through her teeth. She heard growling in her ears and swiftly turned around and was startled when gray and boney arms reach out to her. She held her arm against the Walker's chest and thrust her knife up under into its chin and right into its brain. Natasha hiked her leg up and kicked the corpse off her. "Go, go, go, go."

Glenn fumbled for a bit before grabbing Rick's sheriff's hat from off the ground. He ran off back towards the direction of the alleyway but not before snatching up Rick's hat. "Natasha...!" he hissed at her since he couldn't raise his voice. "Natasha, come on...!"

"Yeah." Natasha turned around and stumbled back a bit when she realized her path was cut off by Walkers. She quickly waved Glenn off. "Go! Just go! I'll be right behind you!"

Glenn heisted for the longest second before he reluctantly pulled away and made a dash back to the alleyway.

Natasha roughly shoved her hands against a Walker's chest and caused it to trip back into the others behind it so they would fall over. She didn't waste any time and quickly hopped over their bodies to catch up to Glenn before Daryl could shut the gate on her. She knows that he would.

Back in the alleyway, Daryl was hunkered down behind the dumpster and waited for Glenn and Natasha to get back. He heard the Walkers outside on the street growing more and more agitated as time stretched on. Natasha was wrong about her initial prediction of it taking only 15 seconds. They were up to a minute now and still going.

Something caught Daryl's attention though that sounded like slow-paced footsteps coming up from behind him. He instantly got up from behind his cover and pointed his crossbow at a young man of Mexican descent. He was unarmed by the looks of it too.

The young kid immediately put his hands up to stop Daryl from shooting him dead. "Whoa, don't shoot me! What do you want?" he said in a panic.

"I'm looking for my brother. he's hurt real bac. You seen him?" Daryl demanded.

Immediately, the young man started to cry out, shouting at the top of his lungs for help. "Ayúdame!" His voice echoed off the buildings and throughout the Walker infested streets that Glenn and Natasha were still out in. "Ayúdame!"

"Shut up!" Daryl hissed and nudged his crossbow closer to his face. "You're gonna bring the geeks down on us. Answer me!"

"Ayúdame! Ayúdame!"

Daryl swings his crossbow up and struck it across the man's face to shut him up. The force knocked the kid to the ground but he continued to shout for help. Daryl covered his mouth with his hands to silence him. "Shut up. Shut up. Shut up."

Before he could even comprehend what was going un, two other Mexican men came down their alleyway and saw Daryl struggling to keep the young kid quiet. They both ran up behind them and immediately knocked him off and started to beat him up while he laid helpless on the ground, kicking and hitting him with a bat.

Glenn finally came into the alleyway but stopped dead still when he saw Daryl getting brutally beaten up by these two unknown men. They both turned their heads though and spotted him.

"That's it. That's the bag, Vato. take it! Take it!" One of them pointed at the bag Glenn was holding while the other raced after him.

Glenn turned to run but was hit from behind and knocked to the floor right at the edge of the gate. "Ah!" he shouted while they began to assault him with a bat. "Natasha! Natasha!" He called for help just as an unknown car drove up beside them and stopped.

One of the men reached down and to grab the bag of guns when he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his shoulder blade that stopped him. He howled with pain that came deep from his throat and moved his hand to the back of his shoulder and felt that it was a knife that stabbed him. He yanked the blade out sharply turned around to see that it was Natasha that threw the knife from at least thirty feet away. She went to throw another one but stopped when they yanked Glenn up and held him out in front of them so she wouldn't attack.

"Get off me! Get off me! Daryl! Daryl! Natasha!" Glenn shouted for help as he was pulled into the running car that drove off the first chance it got.

Daryl sprung up from the ground and screamed at the car that got farther and farther away with their friend. "Come back here, you sumbitches!" He then looked back to Natasha as his eyes grew wide. "The hell are you doing?! Look out!"

Daggers made of ice punctured through her body and rippled throughout every nerve when a sharp pain was suddenly torn through her shoulder. Natasha let out a sharp gasp at first, totally astonished, but she began to feel the hot breath on her neck and the nasty smell of a Walker biting into her shoulder. The creature ground at the fabric of her coat and clawed it's weak nails at her back to keep Natasha in place. Her stunned state only lasted for a fraction of a second though before she snapped back from her horror. She took her knife and plunged it right into the back of the Walker's head and it finally released herself from its gnarly hold.

Natasha's stumbled away and began to breathe heavily. Her body was throbbing with agony and her mind was on fire. She grabbed her shoulder tightly and refused to look at it, fear of what she might see.

Her eyes gazed up and met Daryl's for only a second. Shock was written on both their faces that couldn't entirely comprehend what just happened. Glenn was taken hostage and Natasha was just bitten.

Daryl was started when he realized that Walkers were beginning to close in on him. He was left with no choice but to close the gate, locking Natasha outside.

Adrenaline began to pump through her veins and pumped hard. Natasha felt her brain, that was already on fire continue to work as her strong survival instincts took over. She darted her head back and forth and tried to find a clear path through the maze of Walkers, trying to find a way out, a way to survive and got off the streets!

She'll freaking worry about the bite later.

Natasha set her mind straight ahead at the task at hand and finally took off down the street when a path was finally laid before her.

Daryl watched as she disappeared down another alleyway with a herd of Walkers following an endless pursuit. He couldn't see anything nor could he hear. Daryl had no idea anymore if Natasha was still alive, devoured by Walkers or turned into one herself.

Rick and T-Dog finally came running down the alleyway after hearing everyone's shouting. Glenn and Natasha were missing and Daryl was moments away from killing the kid who was unfortunately left behind when his friends escaped.

Rick quickly ripped Daryl off the kid. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop it!"

Daryl tried to shove past and pointed his finger at the kid that T-Dog was keeping put. "I'm gonna kick your nuts up in your throat!" he screeched. "They took Glenn and Natasha got bit too because of that little prick! That little bastard and his little bastard homie friends. I'm gonna stomp your ass!"

Rick kept Daryl away and looked around but saw that Natasha was nowhere to be found. "You said she got bit? Where is she?"

"Hell if I know! I had to close the gate so she ran off somewhere else to try and get away!" Daryl explained through fits of screaming.

T-Dog's eyes suddenly went wide and he urgently pointed to the gate in front of them. "Guys we're cut off!" He gestured to the gate that was being pushed against by the Walkers.

"Get to the lab." Rick urged everyone since there was nothing he could do. "Go!" He picked up the bag of guns that were left behind and quickly snatched up his hat. Rick and the rest of them took off down the alleyway to get away from the Walkers, having no choice but to leave Natasha to her fate.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Internet's down at my house right now. Had to edit half this on my phone. Sorry for the inconvenience.**

**Did I just seriously kill off my main girl in the second freaking chapter?! Haha. Well, if that's not attention-grabbing then I don't know what is.**

**And it does feel like Glenn would be the most accepting person out of the four, doesn't it? I thought it would be cute that he accepted Natasha first.**

**Sorry it took a while to post the second chapter, but I changed up my schedule for posting stories. I'm probably going to only update a chapter once a month or every other month.**

**I do realize that this is going to be a slow burn story since there's not enough time to truly establish a relationship between Daryl and Natasha during RG. It's just going to be one of those things that they'll just have to ease into. I'm contemplating on changing the genre of this story though, for this one at least. I want it to be known that a romantic relationship is where I'm going but...I don't know. I might just leave it alone.**

**Anyway. My carpal tunnel is really acting up a lot today so I'm gonna head out for now. Let me know what you think so far, and until then, take really good care of yourselves.**


	3. Vatos Part 3

**VATOS PART 3**

There was this unrivaled determination that kept her feet running at top speed despite the throbbing pain that was darting through her injured shoulder. Natasha didn't know if she was actually bitten or not but didn't stop to look even for one second with the growing number of gurgling and growls directly behind her. Her chest felt tight when her lungs expanded, burning after taking in the putrid smell of rot that permeated the air. Despite everything around her, her heart continued to pump blood through her veins and that was enough for her to run like a madwoman through the narrow roads between buildings.

Natasha ducked and weaved in and out of alleyways but none were leading her to a planned escape route. She knew Atlanta like the back of her own hand and had maps drawn out inside her head, making it a solid effort to memorize them before even taking a single step into the city. Nothing was able to generate into her mind though within her sheer blind focus to just run away. There was no road inside her mind that will lead her to escape.

The sounds of ghouls grew closer behind, looming like a giant shadow of death that Natasha couldn't allow herself to be caught in. It was unknown to her yet if she truly was a dead woman walking, though the truth didn't matter in the end. She didn't care. There was no way she would get herself killed by being ambushed and eaten alive by such mindless creatures. She would rather drench herself in gas and run through hell before a gruesome outcome like that could happen to her.

Natasha finally made a move to cut into an alleyway but her body was going way to fast for her to stop fully, slamming her whole weight into a wall upon impact. "Ah!" The blow made her gasp sharply, tremors vibrating throughout her whole body in a cold sweat. She looked over her shoulder for the first time since running away and saw a mass hoard of Walkers inching their way towards her. "Oh...God..."

It almost didn't feel real, like she was watching this whole thing play out through a narrow TV screen. The smell though was what snapped her back to reality. The crude, stomach-turning smell that overwhelmed all her senses and made her gag on the air. They growled at her, hissing with decaying death while trying to pick up their speed, all while pieces of meat slid right off their bones, black-colored blood oozing from their wounds and pours.

It was like they were Famine incarnated.

She tore her eyes away from the sight of waling and growling corpses to see what alleyway she was on now. Natasha sucked in a deep breath and felt her heart get crushed, seeing the grave error of the map inside her head. There were at least 3, maybe 4 Walkers wandering in the alleyway and a fire escape with a ladder that wasn't low enough to jump up from the ground and grab. At the very end of the alley though was what made her heart die. It was a barred fence that blocked off the other street.

Natasha hit a dead end. She was so caught up in running away that she didn't focus enough attention on where she had to go.

There were Walkers on both sides of her now, leaving no opportunity to backtrack and find a different way. Her eyes sharpened in on that fire escape though, tearing her own brain apart to find and think of a way to make it up there in time before she can get caught.

Natasha ran deep into the alleyway, using her whole body weight to shove the approaching corpses aside. She made a hard right towards a wall and planted her right foot against it, jumping up as high as possible to grab onto a small ledge. Her fingers rubbed against the rough cement blocks while using all her strength to scale the building at least a few feet up until she was out of harm's way. Natasha hung there for a moment and glanced to her right at the low hanging ladder that was at least five feet apart. Taking in a deep breath, she made the risky leap across the gap and grasped ahold of the ladder. Her fingers curled around the cold metal and with the strength of a thousand men, she pushed herself up until both feet were against the steps.

She looked down at long last at what was below her, gasping deeply as the hoard of Walkers conjured right below the ladder, growling with their rotten vocal cords and reaching their grimy hands up to try and pull her down. Luckily she was high up enough to not worry about that.

Natasha knew it would be better to not stick around any longer and started to ascend the fire escape all the way to the top, the feeling of her burning shoulder still pressing against her mind.

Never had she been so happy to reach the safety of the rooftop, practically throwing herself against the scorching hot gravel that burned her skin like bacon against a frying pan. Natasha just laid there for a minute or two, breathing heavily as though she had just run a marathon despite it only being a couple of blocks. She pushed herself onto her back and her face fell flat, dread striking her like lightning. Her body became rigid while pressing her cheek against the hot gravel until her skin turned red.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

She wasn't safe yet, not even close. She didn't know if she was actually bitten or not, having to have been too afraid to even take so much of a glance when she was back on the streets. But now things had calmed down and she had to face the fire alone.

Natasha, though reluctantly, had to pick herself up off the ground and walk over to the ledge. She took in small breaths of encouragement that was mixed in with fleeting hope, zipping down her coat slowly and letting it slide off her arms. "Please, please, please, please," she begged under her breath and closed her eyes tightly so she wouldn't have to look, voice breaking with every letter that spilled from her mouth. "Oh God, please..."

She felt around the fabric on her shoulder but still couldn't tell if she was bleeding or not, being hot and already drenched in sweat. Natasha opened a single eye and looked down, seeing not even a single bloodstain on her shoulder. She pulled the fabric back and saw that there were obvious bruising. No broken skin or anything like that though. The teeth didn't bite through the thick fabric of her coat. She wasn't bitten and she wasn't infected. Natasha was safe.

Gasping for air, she happily breathed in the rotten stench that made her eyes water. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you..." Natasha closed her eyes by covering them with her hands and just sat there, sliding down the wall as the last of her strength left her body, leaving nothing but endless shakes as the hot Georgia sun baked her skin. She pulled her hand away from her eyes and stared down at it, seeing it shake despite the blistering hot weather she was facing.

She reached for her satchel and rummaged through the front pocket, pulling out a lighter and a half-empty pack of cigarettes with only 3 left inside. It was a full case when she found it two days ago. The flick and clicking sound of the lighter filled her ears as grayness engulfed her lungs, taking in the smoke and just wishing that the familiar aroma would transport her to a different world. A world that wasn't her own. A place before hell opened up and spread its pestilence like wildfire.

How do you fight a wildfire? How do you fight hell? How do you defeat pestilence? How do you get back to your old world?

The world was burning, heaven had locked its gates for good, and the new reanimation gospel took a twisted turn by taking a swan-dive right into hell.

She watched the city and could hear the growls of the dead right below her as gray smoke filled her vision, very slowly making the trembling stop.

"Maybe it's a good thing Ben's no longer here. He would hate to see Atlanta like this." Her voice was flat while fiddling around with her engagement ring that hung from her neck. It glimmered under the sun: the last fragment of a silver lining.

"_If you'll be my bodyguard. I can be your long lost pal. I can call you Betty And Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al,_" a voice said like a ghostly whisper...but it was actually a real voice that came from behind the door leading into a stairwell.

The new voice stunned Natasha into muteness, feeling her blood run cold and turn to ice. She cranked her head to the side and narrowed in on the door from where it came from. It was a female's voice that continued to sing.

"_A man walks down the street. __He says, 'Why am I short of attention? Got a short little span of attention And, whoa, my nights are so long. Where's my wife and family? What if I die here? Who'll be my role model Now that my role model is gone, gone?'"_

It seemed quite mocking actually and Natasha didn't like hearing it.

Cautiously, she got up from the ground and inched over to the door, one hand on the knob and the other on her knife. She could hear the voice and it sounded like it came directly behind the other side of the door, going up the stairwell actually. She could make out the distinct sound of footsteps against the ground.

In one swing while biting down hard on her cigarette, she busted open the door and came face to face with nothing but musty air and her own echos from opening the door so fast. Nothing was there despite being so sure she heard a singing voice just a moment ago, which happened to stop the second she opened the door.

The crushed cigarette dropped from her lips when she parted them. "Anyone here?" she called out, her voice echoing off the walls. "Hello?" Natasha waited for a moment, ears honed in to see if she could hear anything aside from her own voice.

Silence only followed when not a single soul answered her back.

Natasha felt grim.

* * *

Rick and T-Dog were still trying to wrap their minds around what occurred back in the alley. Everything happened way to fast and they weren't exactly sure of what transpired. The kid from the other group got abandoned, Glenn was kidnapped, and Natasha was bitten and ran off with a mass hoard of Walkers behind her. There was nothing no one could've done though and ended up taking the kid back to the temporary safety of the building they originally met Natasha in, now two members short.

The kid was quiet while being stared down by everyone, head to the floor. He wasn't beaten because Rick didn't want to hurt him. The only injury he really had on him was a cut across his lip. Courtesy from Daryl cold-cocking him across the face with his crossbow. It would've ended a lot worse for him if Rick and T-Dog didn't run into the alleyway when they did.

Rick approached the kid slowly and was very calm when he spoke. "Those men you were with, we need to know where they went."

The young man's jaw tightened and he avoided everyone's heavy gazes. "I ain't telling you nothing."

"Jesus, man." T-Dog groaned and ran his hands over his bald head. "What the hell happened back there? You sure Natasha got taken down?" He eyed Daryl from across the room, the man marching back and forth with his face twisted into anger.

"Hell yeah, I am! No one can come back from a bite." Daryl was still seething with the fact that he got jumped out of nowhere, and it was because of that other group that they lost Glenn and Natasha. "This little turd and his douche bag friends came out of nowhere and jumped me."

The kid rolled his eyes. "You're the one who jumped me, puto, screaming about trying to find his brother like it's my damn fault."

"They took Glenn. Could have taken Merle too," he argued, his voice vibrating and bouncing off the walls.

"Merle?" the kid scoffed. "What kind of hick name is that? I wouldn't name my dog Merle."

Daryl saw red and immediately tried to kick the kid's teeth in, getting only inches from his face before Rick yanked him back.

"Damnit, Daryl. Back off." Rick kept his hand out in front of him to make sure Daryl wouldn't do anything. Luckily he just went back to pacing angrily around the room like a wild animal.

Daryl walked over to Glenn's backpack and pulled out the do-rag that was covering Merle's severed hand. "Want to see what happened to the last guy who pissed me off?" He unwrapped it and turned around, slapping it right on top of the kid's lap.

"Ugh!" He jumped up and immediately started to freak out, throwing the severed gray hand right off. He tripped over his own feet and fell against the wall.

Daryl grabbed him by the front of the shirt. "Start with the feet this time."

Once again, Rick had to step in and pull him off the terrified kid.

Everyone was soon drawn to attention and jumped, these sudden three loud knocks coming from the window to their left. They sounded sharp and consistent, so it wasn't a Walker, but also considering the fact that they were at least on the fourth floor. It had to be a normal human.

Someone began to fiddle with the window like trying to undo the lock from the outside. It made a clicking noise and it rose all the way up. Natasha poked her head through the window and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw everyone. "I figured you guys would come back here," she said and wiggled her petite body through the narrow space into the room. "Daryl was yelling loud enough so that's how I figured you guys would be here."

Rick fell into a state of shock when he saw her, as well as everyone else. "Nat-" He saw her began to lose her balance and rushed to stop her from falling, easing her to the ground. "I got you, I got you."

T-Dog was obviously on edge since he couldn't tell if she was out of breath or in change to becoming a Walker. "How in the hell did you get out of there alive?"

Her whole body was quivering from exhaustion and she was breathing heavily, a thin layer of sweat on her forehead with the color drained from her face. Her gun-metal eyes were still shimmering calmly though, like streaming river water. "I scaled a building to get to the fire escape a couple of blocks from here. After that I went back to traveling by rooftop," she said through small gasps of air, coughing with a dry voice. She, unfortunately, had to drink the rest of her water.

Rick looked down at her fingers and saw that they were bruised and had dried blood on them, so her story did check out. He looked around the room and saw that Daryl was itching over to his crossbow. "Daryl, hold on for a minute."

He rolled his eyes. "You can't be serious. She got bit!" he exclaimed.

"Let me at least look." Rick hissed and looked back to Natasha. He pulled back the fabric on her shoulder to see if he could spot a bite wound or anything. There was only a bruise though. "There's no bite. She's clean." He looked back at Daryl and T-Dog who were understandably concerned, but as soon as he said that they relaxed. "Natasha, your coat's military-grade, ain't it." His eyes trailed down to the coat she was wearing and finally got a good look at it. The fabric was thick and heavy, specially designed to be durable and long-lasting.

T-Dog's mouth fell open. "So the fabric's too thick for Walkers to bite through it?"

Natasha nodded her head.

Daryl scoffed and glanced over it. It looked quite big on her so he figured it had to have been someone else's at one point. "What poor bastard did you pull that off of?"

Natasha took in a deep breath to steady herself before locking her eyes with his, speaking calmly with her smooth water-like voice. "No one. It was in my closet in my apartment." She bit down on her lips and looked away. "It was Ben's...my, uh, fiancé. He was military. This was his coat." Sadness lingered in her voice, traces of old wounds that haven't had the time to heal properly and were still new.

Rick sighed softly and patted her good shoulder. "It's a good thing that you're alright."

"Ah, just curious but...what did you do before, uh, you know...all of this?" T-Dog asked.

She cocked a brow and stared at him. "I was a gymnastics instructor for kids 10 and up." She looked down at herself and laughed a bit, no longer looking the part of someone who taught kids things like backflips. "Probably saved my life too, to be honest."

Rick smiled a bit, never thinking the profession would be helpful in today's new day and age. It really did save her.

Natasha glanced over to the quiet kid. "Who's he? Does he have anything to do with Glenn being kidnapped?" She screwed the cap back on her water bottle.

"He's the little prick that started all this!" Daryl explained through fits of yelling. "Screaming his damn head off before his friends jumped me."

"I was wondering what the screaming was about. If he didn't do that then none of this would've happened." Natasha frowned and tilted her head, staring at the kid with suspicious eyes. "He's not talking?"

Rick shook his head. "He won't say a word and all we want to do is talk."

Her lips thinned out, contemplating something while scanning through the Atlanta map in her head. Suddenly her lips parted as though she had just realized something. "I think I know where he's from." She saw the young man's eye glance up at her, totally puzzled. "You're from the nursing home, aren't you." His eyes grew wide and she immediately knew she was right.

"Wait, what?" T-Dog said. "How do you know that?"

"I've been in the city for at least 3 days trying to find supplies. I noticed that there was a group of survivors hauled up in the nursing home a couple of miles from here," Natasha said and crossed her arms over her chest. "I stayed out of there way but also kept a close eye on them just to be sure."

The kid's jaw clenched and he quickly looked down, still refusing to say anything but his resolve had definitely shrunk a bit.

"I know the way," Natasha stated with little to no hesitation at all or concern. "I can take you there."

Rick glanced around the room to both Daryl and T-Dog before all nodding in agreement, the kid soon shrinking down into himself with defeat.

* * *

The nursing home that Natasha led them too was in sight, located in the rough part of town with more abandoned buildings around than actual ones in use. She knew the area quite well so it wasn't hard to find cover behind the torn down stone walls, giving Rick and them a moment to come up with a short plan of action.

Rick glanced down to Natasha who was loading up one of the shotguns that were in the bag. She worked consistently so it gave him the idea that she knew her way around a weapon even before the world went to hell. If he could take a guess on how she learned all this, then it might've been from her fiancé, Ben. "Is this the place?" he asked.

"Yeah. They always come out through the door behind us. Nowhere else." Natasha racked the shotgun and handed it over for Rick to use, taking a rifle for herself.

Daryl glanced down at the kid and narrowed his eyes. "One wrong move, you get an arrow in the ass. Just so you know."

The kid rolled his eyes. "G's gonna take the arrow out of my ass and shove it up yours. Just so you know," he mocked.

Rick stared at him. "G?"

"Guillermo," he explained, looking away. "He's the man here."

"Okay then." Rick shortly nodded, grasping the shotgun tightly. "Let's go see Guillermo."

Rick, Daryl, and Natasha loaded up their weapons and pushed the kid on forth through the small window leading up to the front door. They didn't see anyone around and the place was oddly quiet, setting everyone's nerves on fire with uneasiness.

They got close enough to the door and heard the sound of a lock being detached, slowly pulling it open to let an unarmed man walk through. It was obvious to everyone that this was their man, Guillermo. The way he walked and carried himself with the confidence of all his men behind him, watching with intense eyes at the three intruders holding guns to the kid.

"You okay, little man?" Guillermo asked sternly.

"They're gonna cut off my feet, carnal." the kid said in a weak voice.

Guillermo glanced at Rick and noticed his sheriff attire. "Cops do that?"

"Not him," the kid clarified and gestured to Daryl behind him. "This redneck puto here. He cut off some dude's hand, man. He showed it to me."

"Shut up." Daryl hissed and watched everyone down the long barrel of his gun.

Natasha glanced past Guillermo at all the men looming in the shadows of the hideout, most of them carrying things like crowbars, pipes, and bats. They did have guns with them but nearly all of them were snubnosed revolvers. Firearms that carried at least 4 to 5 rounds in the cylinder. Rick's group was outmatched when it came to manpower, but it was their win when it came to firepower.

"Hey, that's the Vato right there!" Just then a familiar face rushed out of the compound, howling and pointing a pistol right at Natasha. She recognized the man and realized that it was the guy she threw a knife at. "She's the girl that threw a knife at me. What's up, homes, huh?" his voice was seething, pointless against Natasha's calm exterior though

Guillermo held his hand up and lowered the gun. "Chill, ese, chill. Chill. This true?" He looked back to the three. "He wants Miguelito's feet? That's pretty sick, man."

"We were hoping more for a calm discussion," Rick said.

"That hillbilly jumps Felipe's little cousin, beats on him, threatens to cut off his feet, Felipe gets a knife in the shoulder and you want a calm discussion? You fascinate me."

"Heat of the moment. Mistakes were made on both sides."

"Who's that dude to you anyway? You don't look related."

"He's one of our group, more or less. I'm sure you have a few like him." Rick says.

"You got my brother in there?" Daryl asked.

"Sorry, fresh out of white boys." Guillermo shook his head. "But I've got Asian. You interested?"

Rick was steady with his words and didn't back down or hesitate. "I have one of yours, you have one of mine. Sounds like an even trade."

"Don't sound even to me."

Miguel, the kid gave a small and weak laugh. "G. Come on, man," his voice croaked

"My people got attacked. Where's the compensation for their pain and suffering? More to the point, where's my bag of guns?" Guillermo demanded.

Rick cocked a brow. "Guns?"

"The bag Miguel saw in the street. The bag Felipe and Jorge were going back to get. That bag of guns."

"Your mistaken." Rick's jaw tightened.

"I don't think so."

"About it being yours. It's my bag of guns," he stated firmly.

"The bag was in the street. Anybody could come around and say it was theirs. I'm supposed to take your word? What's to stop my people from unloading on you right here and now and I take what's mine?"

Natasha tilted her head to the side. "Your right, but it's first come first serve now in this world. We got the guns first. We grabbed them before your people came by and messed everything up...and I nearly got eaten alive because of that. Where's the compensation for that?" Her voice may be smooth but it was like the flat side of a knife 'smooth'.

She gestured her head up to the rooftop to their left and saw T-Dog up top with the sniper's rifle.

Guillermo took a breath and saw the position they had placed him in. "Oye!" he called out.

On top of the compound walked out three men. Glenn was one of them, tied up with ducktape over his mouth.

"I see two options. You come back with Miguel and my bag of guns, everybody walks. Or you come back locked and loaded, we'll see which side spills more blood." He set his words straight and headed back inside the compound with the rest of the Vatos, closing the door behind them.

* * *

Natasha was quiet after following the guys back to the office building, letting them just talk amongst themselves on what they were going to do, knowing she had no say in the matter, much less on what _she _was going to do now. She wasn't part of Rick's group and she wasn't sure anymore about what to do. It truly did amaze her though on how easily plans can fall through, going from bad to worse in just a split second and giving no opportunity to even think of a backup.

"Them guns are worth more than gold," Daryl said, reminding Rick while he sorted through the bag. "Gold won't protect your family or put food on the table. You're giving that up for that kid?"

"If I knew we'd get Glenn back, I might agree with you." T-Dog couldn't help but feel uneasy about the whole thing. "But you think that the Vato across the way is just gonna hand him over?"

"You calling G a liar?" Miguel spoke up but was immediately shot down by Daryl.

"Are you apart of this? You want to hold onto your teeth?" He slapped him across the head.

Natasha sat still on the table and just watched as Rick sorted through all the guns. "To be honest though...I don't think they have very many guns themselves. Probably why they're so desperate to get these. With that in mind...can you even trust what he says?"

"No, question is what are you willing to bet on it?" Daryl chimed in. "Could be more than them guns. Could be your life. Glenn worth that to you?"

It sounded cruel but Daryl made a strong point, Natasha noticed. If it was any other situation then it would be different, but so much more was on the table now that the world ended up the way it did. Money is worthless and guns had become priceless. Even she would have been hard press to hand her own weapons over, believing she could find a different way. The Vatos were desperate though, so that changes everything. When people become desperate then things start to become scary.

"What life I have I owe to him," Rick stated. "I was nobody to Glenn, just some idiot stuck in a tank. He could have walked away, but he didn't. Neither will I."

"So you're gonna hand the guns over?"

Rick looked up. "I didn't say that." He took up a shotgun then began to load it up with shells, soon stopping though when his eyes landed on Natasha. He bit down on his lips and lowered the weapon. "Natasha...I think it would be best for you to leave now. I appreciate everything you have done for us until now...but this is our fight. You've done more than enough."

Natasha's brain stuttered a bit while she blinked her eyes. She stared at Rick as everything went on pause, not thinking that he would actually say that to her, despite thinking about it herself. He understood that her life was on the line and it didn't have to be. She didn't know them. She didn't owe them anything. Natasha only briefly helped them out of the goodness of her heart because they didn't seem that bad, just desperate to find someone.

Rick was giving her an out and she would be wise to follow it. This was not her fight.

Natasha didn't move from her spot and felt her body cemented in place, reluctantly to pull away. She had to make sure though and ask with her own words if it would be alright to leave. "You sure? Things just went from bad to worse and you're low on manpower too."

He lowered his head and nodded very slowly, thinking over it for a moment before talking. "Yeah, I understand that, but I can't ask you to stay and risk yourself for us anymore."

She instinctively reached her hand up to her engagement ring and jostled it across her fingers for a bit, thinking. Her face soon fell and she hopped off the table.

Truth be told, Natasha honestly didn't want to stay in the city any more after almost being killed on the streets. She didn't think Atlanta would be this bad, and here she thought the firebombing was the worse thing she had witnessed...how wrong she was though.

The city was dead, and anyone who lingered will soon be too.

Natasha took a breath and reached her hand back to pull her hood up, getting ready to leave. "Okay...I don't know what else to say to you guys but...good luck."

Rick reached out and shook her hand. "Thanks for everything. Hopefully, we can meet again on better terms."

"If you live that long." Natasha's words were flat, her expression dissolving within the shadows of her large hood and scarf.

She turned around to leave and glided her hand across the doorframe when she stopped still, hands balled up into tight fists. It felt like she was being pulled in two different directions, like an angel and a demon on each of her shoulders telling her what to do.

_Stay and help them out._

**You're only going to get yourself killed. Leave.**

_They need help. They seem like good people and it's been way too long since you've seen anyone like that._

**They're only going to get you killed. Leave now.**

_Stay and help._

**Flee and live!**

Natasha felt like she was going insane with all the voices swarming around in her head, telling her to do this, telling her to do that. Stop doing this. Stop doing that.

She slapped her hand against the frame and took in a trembling breath. She yanked her hood back down and turned around to face everyone staring at her, puzzled. "I've come this far...might as well stay." She shrugged her shoulders half-heartedly.

Daryl didn't know if this woman was stupid or just way too kind for her own good. He sure wouldn't have done it if he was in her shoes, not to mention she just bearly shaved off being killed. The way she's acting kinda seemed odd to him now, like it didn't belong in the world anymore. "Why? You don't know us and you especially don't owe us anything too."

Natasha sucked in a deep breath, picking up her frown into a weak smile. "Yeah, well...I like to think that there's at least a couple of good people left in the world."

* * *

Everyone was armed with guns from the bag and marched with purpose through the maze of old stone structures and up to the hideouts double doors. They had Miguel tired up and gagged, leading the way until the doors finally opened to let them in.

The inside of the compound was full of anxious people waiting on the edge to strike if ordered, wielding more pipes and baseball bats then guns. It was more obvious than ever that they were outnumbered, but the one who had the most weapons was clearly Rick's group.

Guillermo marched up to them and eyed the bag of guns that was slung around Rick's shoulder. "I see my bag of guns but they're not all in the bag." Most of the weapons were being carried by Rick's group.

"That's because they're not yours. I thought I mentioned that." His eyes hardened, his trigger finger not easing up on the shotgun he had pointed at Guillermo.

"I don't think you fully understand the gravity of the situation."

"No, I'm pretty clear." Rick cut Miguel lose and shoved him over to his group. "You have your man. I want mine."

Guillermo's eyes narrowed and his voice became threatening. "I'm gonna chop up your boy. I'm gonna feed him to my dogs. They're the evilest, nastiest man-eating bitches you ever saw. I picked them up from Satan at a yard sale. I told you how it has to be. Are you woefully deaf?"

"No, my hearing's fine. You said come locked and loaded." His ears were filled with the sound of everyone cocking their weapons and pointing them at each other. "Okay then, we're here."

They stood against each other, seconds away from pulling the trigger and letting every Walker in the city know of their location. It all came to a halt though when this withered voice of an elderly woman came from behind the Vatos.

"Felipe! Felipe!" A short elderly woman dressed in her nightgown came waddling up between the group of armed and angry men.

"Abuela, go back with the others...now." Felipe urged the old woman who stood in the middle of everything.

"Get that old lady out of the line of fire!" Daryl barked.

"Abuela, listen to your mijo, okay? This is not the place for you right now." Guillermo pleated with the old woman, a barrel still pointed to his head.

The dear old lady then began to explain herself to Felipe through panic breaths. "Mr. Gilbert is having trouble breathing. He needs his asthma stuff. Carlitos didn't find it. He needs his medicine."

Guillermo pondered on it for a while before groaning. "Felipe, go take care of it, okay? And take your grandmother with you."

Felipe tried to pull his grandmother away from the line of fire. "Abuela! Ven conmigo por favor."

She then finally looked up to what was going on and saw Rick standing there, dressed in his sheriff uniform. "Who are these men?" she asked softly and marched up to him. "Don't you take him."

This threw Rick for a loop, looking back at everyone and seeing them just as confused as him. Natasha even lowered her weapon. "Ma'am?"

"Felipe's a good boy. He has his trouble but he pulls himself together. We need him here?" she spoke so very sincerely.

"Ma'am, I'm not here to arrest your grandson," Rick explained.

"Then what do you want from him?" Her innocence to what was happening around her made all the spiking tension slowly ease into nothing. There was no more fight left in anyone.

"He's..." Rick had to pause for a moment to think of a lie. "He's helping us find a missing person. Fella named Glenn."

Her old eyes lit up. "The Asian boy? He's with Mr. Gilbert. Come. Come, I'll show you." She took Rick by the hand and slowly led him through the Vatos as they parted a way for them.

Natasha's mouth hung open as she, Daryl and T-Dog followed behind Rick. "I am so confused right now..." she muttered while leaning her shotgun against her shoulder, not even sure if she'll have to use it anymore.

They all headed into the nursing home that was directly behind the compound from where they originally came from, but upon seeing what was inside, everything suddenly became clear. The outbreak happened months ago...but the elderly haven't left at all since then. They were still there, doing their normal everyday routine with what little they had left.

Natasha trailed behind Rick through the halls and peeked into the open rooms to see what was inside. She noticed immediately that the windows have all been boarded up and the doors were welded shut.

She realized that the Vatos were protecting the elderly.

They walked into a gymnasium where people crowded around Mr. Gilbert, including Glenn too. Felipe quickly assisted the man who was still actively having an asthma attack while Rick and the rest of the group stood around and watched.

"What the hell is this?" Rick asked while walking up to Glenn

"Asthma attack," Glenn explained. "Couldn't get his breath all of a sudden."

"I thought you were being eaten by dogs, man," T-Dog exclaimed in annoyance.

They all looked over their shoulder and saw three buggy-eyed Chihuahuas barking at them with their high pitched screech.

Natasha took a breath and felt like she might've shaved off 10 years of her life in that standoff that happened less than 10 minutes ago. She was still shaking with adrenaline. "You have got to be kidding me. That is the biggest bluff I have ever heard in all my life."

"Can I have a word with you?" Rick took Guillermo aside so no one would be able to hear them. "You are the dumbest son of a bitch I ever met, We walked in there ready to kill every last one of you," he hissed through his teeth.

Guillermo nodded his head. "Well, I'm glad it didn't go down that way."

"If it had, that blood would be on my hands."

"Mine too. We'd have fought back. Wouldn't be the first time we've had to." He then suddenly gestured to Natasha. "And we did notice your little friend had been spying on us for the last three days."

Natasha cocked a brow. "I wasn't spying on you. I was just making sure our paths didn't cross."

"And how was I supposed to know that? For all we've known, you could've been a scout for a group bigger than ours, planning on taking the food, the medicine...what's left of it. These people, the old ones... the staff took off, just left 'em here to die. Me and Felipe were the only ones who stayed."

Natasha bit down on her lips, glancing around the room at all the whithered faces. She honestly never took the elderly into consideration when the outbreak happened, what would become of them when the panic set in. "What are you? A doctor?"

He shook his head. "Felipe's a nurse...a special care provider. Me, I'm the custodian."

That left a bigger impact on her then she would've expected, feeling her heart tense up suddenly.

They walked out of the gym and into a room that was more private.

"What about your crew?" Rick asked.

"The Vatos trickle in to check on their parents, their grandparents. They see how things are and most decide to stay. It's a good thing too. We need the muscle. The people we're encountered since things fell apart, the worst kind...plunderers, the kind that take by force."

"That's not who we are."

"Again. How was I to know? My people got attacked and you show up with Miguel hostage...appearances."

T-Dog looked grim. "Guess the world changed."

"No. It's the same as it ever was. The weak get taken. So we do what we can here. The Vatos work on those cars, talk about getting the old people out of the city. But most can't even get to the bathroom by themselves, still, it keeps the crew busy, and that's worth something. So we barred all the windows, welded all the doors shut except for one entrance. The Vatos, they go out, scavenge what they can to keep us going. We watch the perimeter night and day and we wait. The people here, they all look to me now. I don't even know why." He shook his head, eyes filled heavy with exhaustion because of the duty that was shoved upon him.

Rick could sympathize with that. "Because they can." He looked down at the gun in his hand and handed it over to Guillermo. He soon divided the guns 50/50 between the two groups.

* * *

They only had a couple of hours of daylight left when they finally came out of the nursing home, 50% of their weapons now gone. The only thing they had left to do was get back to the van they initially came in and head back to the main group that was camped up in an abandoned rock quarry.

It somewhat felt weird to come out of a dire situation like that with no bloodshed. It was strange but it also left a good feeling in Natasha's chest, knowing that her naive way of thinking wasn't all for nothing. Good people still existed in the world, few and far between now, but still faintly present. She was wrong initially about one thing though...the world wasn't gone yet. It hasn't totally surrendered itself to the new reanimation gospel and its Walkers.

"Admit it, you came back to Atlanta for the hat," Glenn said while grinning, overjoyed that everything turned out alright.

"Don't tell anybody," Rick asked.

Daryl seemed to be the only one who wasn't completely pleased with the way things came out. "You've given away half our guns and ammo."

"Not nearly half."

"For what? Bunch of old farts who are gonna die off momentarily anyhow. Seriously, how long do you think they got?"

Natasha chimed in before Rick could say anything. "As long as the rest of us have. We're all on borrowed time now." There was lingering grief in her voice but it was all painfully true. A solid point that no one could say differently about.

"Natasha. Are you planning on leaving the city after this?" Rick asked.

"Yeah," she nodded, glancing over her shoulder at the tall buildings of Atlanta, now far behind them. "I don't think it's a good idea to stick around anymore. Pretty sure it would be better to go look for supplies elsewhere, far away from Atlanta.

Daryl scoffed. "For all I care...they can keep the damn city."

"I'm with you on that one." Originally, it was a good idea to go to Atlanta to look for supplies, but she later regretted it. She was sure there was still good stuff inside but it really wasn't worth the risk.

"Hey, Natasha?" Rick's voice changed a bit, a bit serious now. "If you don't have anywhere else to go after this. Then what would you say about coming back with us?

The sudden question made Natasha's feet stick to the floor like glue, her face twisting with deep confusion. "You serious? You don't even know me."

"I think I know enough." He glanced down to the rifle in his hand and held it out in front of him for her to take. "And I don't think anyone here would disagree."

Natasha took the gun from his hand and felt a bit of weight in it for some reason, like something was suddenly placed upon her. A duty of some kind. "I don't know. I really don't." For once she was hesitating. "I've been on my own for a long time and it just feels comfortable for me. I'll go with you for now but you're gonna have to give me some time to think it over when we get there." She sounded more unsure of herself more than ever, like something was holding her back or tying her down.

Rick had no choice but to wait for her reply later. "That's fine."

They head to where they parked their van but saw that it was now gone.

"Oh my god." Glenn's jaw dropped.

"Where the hell's our van?" Daryl said.

"Merle..." Rick's jaw tightened as the name fell from his mouth.

Daryl looked between everyone, turning grim. "He's gonna be taking some vengeance back to camp."

* * *

The frantic and frightened screams were now prominent, echoing out from the darkened woods as Rick and the rest tried to navigate their way through as fast as they could. It was the sound of Walker growls and shotgun ricochets that made it a little easier to find the rock quarry once again

All the color evaporated from Rick's face when he began to hear the cries, not knowing if they were his own wife or son being devoured. "Oh my God." He suddenly felt Natasha give him a harsh shove that told him to keep moving.

"Go! Go now!" she urged him and they took off in a dead sprint in search of the source of the outcries.

They all rushed through the woods and into the campsite, the bright flashes of their weapons illuminating the horror show in front of them. There were hoards of Walkers ripping into the living bodies of the hysterical survivors with women and children being backed up against an RV.

Some Walkers were either distracted by the blinding white blasts of the guns or didn't care enough to pull away from their meal, getting their heads blown away when they weren't looking. Brain matter splattered out onto the floor with rotten flesh being thrown everywhere like a nasty spray.

The smell made Natasha's stomach cringe and she really couldn't see what was going on through the constant flashes of blinding light. She could easily make out sounds though. There was the sound of a man shouting at the survivors to get to the RV, followed by a loud shotgun blast, and Walkers trying to come up behind her before she turned around and pulled the trigger on them. Her rifle vibrated with every pull and her body jolted from the kick.

The screams soon died down and were replaced with the sounds of crying and mourning. The hoard had perished but leaving behind a trail of death and chewed-up flesh. The people who were left fell to their knees and cried over the blood on the ground, hovering over lost family members and hugging the ones who somehow survived.

"Baby! Carl!" Rick cried out desperately.

"Dad!"

His son Carl ran from his mother's side and straight into Rick's open arms, hugging the life out of him and thankful that he was still alive. He walked up to his shellshocked wife who was gasping and trying not to cry, pulled her close into an embrace.

Natasha pulled her hood and scarf down while waving away the thick veil of gun smoke in the air. She said nothing and just looked around at the carnage that was before her, utterly speechless and feeling sick to her stomach. She had to put down her rifle and sit for a moment, dry heaving and stomach turning in all sorts of directions.

Daryl walked over to her and leaned his rifle against his shoulder. "You alright?" he asked.

Natasha bit down on her lips and narrowed her eyes upon the spilled blood that was slowly turning black. "No. No, I'm not."


	4. Wildfire Part 1

**WILDFIRE PART 1**

The world was on fire and the smoldering smell of burning meat tarnished the flavor of her lit cigarette. It was disgusting but Natasha really couldn't stop because it was somehow still relaxing her nerves that were in a constant state of jitteriness. She thought, that perhaps, it was the feeling of nostalgia that eased her distress, a small memory of when times were simpler.

Natasha's eyes glanced down to the pack of smokes in her hand that only had one left inside. She drew her hand up to her lips and pulled out her cigarette so she could release the smoke from her lungs. It filled the air and clouded her vision of the city. Atlanta. It once was her home, where her apartment was and where she lived with her fiancé. He was the man she would wake up and see first thing in the morning, having to have already made her a cup of his delicious coffee. It would be rich, full of cream and extra sugar, and have a hint of hazelnut. It was her favorite and Ben knew it more than anyone. But now...it's been months since she's had a cup.

She never knew that the things she treasured would be taken for granted until the moment they were all lost to her. It was like the world was now in a permanent state of twilight where you would be at your most vulnerable. No longer could you go to sleep in the safety of your own home, wake up with a steaming cup of coffee that your partner made for you, and going to work while planning your day out. People even lost their guarantee for a 'new tomorrow'. Natasha remembered cherishing every second she had being alive, but now it feels like she's surviving just to die slowly.

The sky glistened in a beautiful pattern of warm glows and pastel hues. Oranges blended in well with the reds and the purple and blues filled the rest of the skies as dawn finally broke. The sun rose behind the buildings of Atlanta and showered the survivors in golden light, but for them, the only thing they really saw was the blood on the ground that had turned black from aging. The night was over but it was only an indication that a new long day had just begun. A long day of digging holes and burying the dead before the smell got worse. Hardly any tears were shed and catatonic stillness broke through everyone's bodies, leaving them feeling hollow and aimless. It was all they really could do.

Natasha wandered back to the rock quarry and felt her ears cringe with the sound of bones shattering from a pickaxe breaking through the skulls of the dead. Leave it to Daryl to do the dirty work, seeing no change in his rough expression despite the blood and brain matter dripping off the pick. Natasha, on the other hand, looked green and had to use her scarf to hide her nose from the smell. She looked down at her feet and saw the blood beginning to run downhill. She stepped to the side to avoid it.

Daryl glanced up after yanking his pickaxe out from a skull of a corpse. "You're still here?"

"What-" Smoke went down the wrong pipe for a moment and she ended up coughing a few times before pulling the cigarette from her lips. "What are you talking about, Daryl?" she said and dropped the cigarette in her hands, putting it out under the worn-out boots that were practically mended to her legs at this point.

"What the hell do you mean by that?" his face turned up into a sneer. "Look around you. It ain't the best first impression."

She thought it over for a moment till it finally clicked in her head. Natasha tipped her head to the side and stared intensely at him, very much baffled. "You thought I was going to leave because of this?" she said.

"Which is beyond me why you're not gone yet. You don't seem like the type of person who needs a group. You sure as hell looked like you were doing fine on your own way before we found you."

Natasha couldn't help but smile, not in a mocking sort of way, but because it sounded like a compliment. Daryl was most likely not aware of it though. "I guess." She wouldn't deny that he was right though. Even before the world changed, she had always known how to take care of herself, but maybe it was a strong desire to be around people again that kept her body still. Well...at least around _good_ people. "I could say the same for you. You strike me as the type of guy who could survive easily on his own." Daryl definitely had that mentality about him going on. So someone like him being in a group kind of seemed farfetched, but perhaps that's what he saw with her too.

Daryl walked over to another body laying on the ground and let Glenn and Morales drag the other one to the fire to burn. "Yeah, well, it's because I can," he said, swinging his arms all the way around and bringing the pickaxe down on another skull.

The sound of the pick breaking through the bone made her stomach turn all the way around. "Right..." She grimaced and turned to leave, not wanting to see any more gore then she had too. Natasha never thought herself to have a weak stomach, but this was honestly too much for her to handle.

Daryl yanked his pick out and caused blood to splatter far across the rocky ground. He turned up a brow and looked up at the blazing sun and the heat that radiated against his skin before his eyes fell back to Natasha, seeing her still wearing that thick coat. "Hey, ain't you cooking in that thing?" he called out and made her turn back around.

Natasha's face twisted with confusion despite how simple the question was. It still took her by surprise and made her think about it for a moment. "What?"

Now it was Daryl's turn to be confused. "You're standing out here in the Georgia sun in a thick-ass coat. Ain't you hot?" he pointed out.

An awful gut feeling began to rise up in her stomach that made her parched throat close tight. There was an odd look growing in Natasha's eyes that told Daryl that she wasn't aware of the fact that she was hot in her coat. "Ah, uh..." Her face flared up to a bright red hue and she quickly looked down at herself. She unzipped her coat and practically ripped it and her scarf off. Daryl blinked a few times and just stared at the surprising amount of ink on her body.

On her left forearm was a large bouquet of tattooed flowers that wrapped all the way around her arm that was a little sunburn from the blazing heat. There were golden marigolds that laid splendidly with the brilliant shades of the red roses and black colored lilies that sat in the background of the arrangement like a twisted shadow. On the right side of her neck was a simpler and smaller-sized tattoo, an ocean wave by the looks of it. It was a light shade of blue that turned and twisted, converting to black as it ran down her back and stopped at her shoulder blade.

Daryl pulled the pick against his shoulder and watched as Natasha turned and left. He shrugged. "Whatever," he said and walked off.

There was still uncertainty in the air that left everyone on edge as they inched around one of the survivors, Andrea, who has been in a state of stillness the whole night. She stood beside Amy, her sister's body that has grown cold with the ugly color of death on her face. She was almost a marbly-white tone with bright shades of red on her arm and neck that had large chunks taken out of it. Despite the odd severity of death that surrounded her, Amy merely looked like she was sleeping...soon to wake up.

Rick had tried to approach Andrea before but was immediately met with the barrel of a gun, which made him ease off gently to not agitate the grieving. As time grew on he was starting to get more and more nervous for her and everyone else in the camp who were just barely holding on.

"Natasha," Rick called out just as she walked by him.

She stopped mid-stride and turned her head up to him, eyes drained and exhausted. "Let me guess. It's about the body over there." She gestured her head over to Andrea and Amy.

"Yeah." Rick led Natasha by her shoulder away from earshot and closer to the rest of the survivors. "You were in Atlanta when it was overrun, so I was hoping you would know how long it would take for a body to..." he paused since he wasn't sure of the right word to describe the transition, "turn."

Everyone eased in close to her and was eager yet concerned to hear what she might have to say. Honestly, seeing Natasha hesitate to tell them made them even more worried.

"I don't know," she blurted out, much to their dismay. "Don't get me wrong. I've seen it, many times actually, but it's different."

"How different are we talking?" Lori asked.

Natasha tossed her coat down against a log and leaned her hands against her hips, rocking back and forth to search through her memories. "It varies. Once dead, it can take hours or just a couple of minutes. Sometimes it can even last for a whole day before the body wakes up again," she explained.

Shane took a moment to process that and judge how long Amy's been dead. He guessed that it might've been over five hours. "Can you put an estimate to how long you think it's gonna take?"

"That's a stretch." She eyed him doubtfully but still complied with his request. "I don't know. Maybe in an hour or near the end of the day." She then cocked her head. "You're not thinking about waiting it out, right?" Natasha's eyes grew wide when neither of them answered her, even avoiding eye contact.

"You can't be serious." Daryl overheard the conversation and walked up to them. "Let that girl hamstring us? Natasha already said that the girl's a time bomb."

"What do you suggest?" Rick said.

Daryl looked him in the eyes and got straight to the point with little to no remorse in his voice. "Take the shot. Clean, in the brain from here. Hell, I can hit a turkey between the eyes from this distance."

"No," Lori spoke firmly. "For God's sake, leave her be."

Daryl looked between everyone and saw that neither of them was moving from the decision. He scoffed before walking off to finish putting down bodies before they could come back.

Rick sighed and scratched the back of his head, glancing over to Natasha who had a solemn look on her face. He was starting to feel a bit guilty for dragging her into this mess when it felt like he promised her safety, failing to do so in the end. "Natasha, I'm sorry. We brought you back here with us but...only for this to happen instead."

She sat down on a log and looked up at him, eyes half-lidded but not angry nor surprised. "Not gonna lie with you. It would've been nice to come back to a camp without having to clean up bodies the very next day." Like usual, she was calm but also flat, so he didn't have an idea about what she may be thinking, only trusting her words. "But I think everyone has to expect this for now on. Digging holes and putting bodies in them."

"Like what you did with your fiancé?" he asked and saw a darkness grow in Natasha's steely gray eyes. Rick felt his stomach drop out when it realized he accidentally stepped on a landmine of unhealed wounds.

Her jaw set and her eyes narrowed a bit but not entirely into a glare. "I never got the chance too." Her voice was cold but grieving. She got up and walked out without another word to anyone, leaving behind this air of dread and pain.

Natasha walked by as T-Dog and Glenn kept the fire going while Daryl and Morales separated the dead survivors from the Walkers. She purposely isolated herself from the scene and stood by the edge of the wood just so the smell of burning flesh won't be so prominent. The stench was something she felt like she'll never get used too, and she didn't want to get used to it. It felt unnatural to get used to it. The whole scene in front of her felt unnatural.

She was just mindlessly fiddling with her ring that hung from her neck when the sound of crunching gravel beside her got the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. She snapped her head to the side and lowered her hand down level with her weapons, only to take a breath of relief to see that it was only Dale, an elderly man in his 60's that held a good-natured smile to his lips. She quickly felt her mind be put at ease by the kindness that seemed so old and foreign to her now. When was the last time she seen such a smile like that? Maybe Ben?

"Hi," he said rather cheerful, smiling politely to not startle her anymore.

"Hi," she answered but felt unsure of what he wanted. "I, uh...I don't think we've met yet."

He shook his head and stepped beside her, rifle tucked on his shoulder but the action of possessing one in his hand felt a bit odd to him. "No, we haven't. I just haven't had the chance to come over and introduce myself and thank you for what you've done so far."

Natasha blinked. "What did I do?"

"Well..you didn't hesitate to help, and that says a lot." His old eyes said stories yet untold and wisdom that was beyond her comprehension, but above all, he seemed generally thankful for her. "It's nice to know that there are still good people out there in the world."

That comment actually made the ends of Natasha's lips turn up into a hopeful smile. "Thank you." It actually kinda hurt a bit since her lips were pretty badly cracked. "I'm Natasha, by the way." She offered her hand out, though she wasn't sure if people still did that. "Sorry. I don't know if people still do handshakes."

"I sure hope so." He snickered a bit and took her hand, squeezing it tightly and smiling. "I'm Dale."

It was soon after that her smile fell, steel falling into her eyes as they glanced around the bodies and the black blood oozing out on the ground and drying up. "Wish I could've done more." Even months after, seeing scenes like this felt surreal and unfair. She would guess that most of these people have never seen a Walker before and had no reason to carry a weapon on themselves in the first place.

Dale could understand her uneasiness and sympathize with it. "I think we all wish that, but it is what it is. This...is our reality now, and reality is ugly." His words dragged out.

"I was right slap-dab in the middle of Atlanta when...things really got serious and ugly. Government higher-ups killed people in their apartments the moment after they fire-bombed the city." Natasha's voice was bitter with memories of seeing masked men gunning down people and their families in the safety of their own home. Just thinking about it again made her stomach drop off the face of the planet.

"I still can't believe it." Dale shook his head. "Looks like you've managed to get out alright though."

"By the skin of my teeth if you can believe. I stayed off the streets. It was one of the last few warnings my fiancé said to me before he..." Natasha paused and had a distant and heavy look in her eyes for a bit, struggling to keep everything together and playing with her ring even more, "uh...died."

Dale looked away. "I'm sorry that happened to you." It was obvious by the way she was acting that his death must've been abrupt for her and she still hasn't accepted it nor gotten over it. "You got anymore family around?"

"No." Heaviness filled her voice but didn't seem as bitter from when she talked about her fiancé. It was still rather odd though and long-lasting, a storm of emotions washing over her eyes before nothingness.

"You sure?" It was so strange that Dale actually had to doubletake to make sure he didn't miss anything while blinking.

Natasha nodded. "My mom and dad passed away together when I was 10. So Ben was the only one I had left."

Dale blinked a few and felt his chest began to burn from the oxygen that escaped his lungs. "You're an orphan."

"Yeah, I guess... Things were pretty hard for me after that and I became nothing but a stupid self-destructive brat afterwards." Natasha scoffed.

"Like how?" he asked, actually getting more curious as the words fell from her mouth.

"Drinking, smoking, stealing, getting mixed up in the wrong crowds. People tried to put me in a home but...I wasn't the most cooperative child and always left. Some old habits never died but..." her hand slipped inside her satchel to the single cigarette pack that had one left inside, "things just kinda worked out in the end after I met Ben." Her lips twitched and Dale thought she was going to laugh, but it didn't stretch any further.

"Well...I'd say you turned out alright. Growing up like that probably helped you in the long-run though," he said bluntly to see if he could actually make Natasha laugh. Success finally came to him though when he saw her lips quivering to hold back giggles.

"I guess." Natasha had the kind of laugh and smile that was very contagious. It was glowing and bright, childish and freeing. To listen to it was like a newfound escape, maybe a dream that would give people the opportunity to forget about their problem and the world as they knew it.

"A Walker got him!" The laughter soon died out though when Jacqui's distressed words made Natasha's blood run cold. "A Walker bit Jim!"

The look on her face changed the instant their words reached her ears and she snapped her head over to where it came from, seeing a woman backing away from a man who just looked glazed and dazed. There was blood on his shirt that was bright red so it was fresh by the looks of it.

"I'm okay. I'm okay." Jim said wistfully as people became to crowd around him.

"Show it to us," Daryl demanded forcefully. "Show it to us."

Panic began to swell in Jim's face as he backed away from everyone, draining of color. Dale and Natasha approached him with the rest of the group and could finally see the front of his shirt. Blood was seeping through the fabric around the area that was slightly torn, believed to be made by teeth.

"Grab him." Daryl inched closed to him.

Jim turned around and grabbed a shovel off the floor and held it out in front of him to keep everyone at bay.

"Jim, put it down. Put it down." Shane ordered.

T-Dog quickly ran up behind Jim when he wasn't looking and caught his arms, a lot like he did with Natasha back in Atlanta. He held him down as Jim repeated to himself, "I'm okay." Daryl took the chance to flip his shirt up, and sure enough, there was a deep wound right below his ribs. It was throbbing and had the markings of teeth around it, ugly and infected looking.

"I'm okay. I'm okay." Jim said in a weak kind of tone, detached from reality as everything began to click for him and the severity of what happened during last night's frenzy. No one said anything to him and just stared as he repeated his words like a broken record. "I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay."

* * *

Jim was still somewhat in a daze and sat quietly by the RV as the rest of the camp huddled around each other to talk about what they were going to do. They were also discussing Amy's case too since it could literally be any minute now until she came back and most likely attack everyone, or worst, attack her still-living sister. Either way, Natasha saw that they were standing in a morally gray situation right now. She struggled to swallow her opinions since she still didn't know half of the people in the group, but no one would deny that she has more experience when it came to dealing with these sorts of things.

"It's not smart to leave him like that. Not only is it dangerous but it's also going to get worse for him here on out." Natasha said as her fingers curled around the frizzy coarseness of her hair to tighten it up and keep it off her neck, her tattoo's in full view of everyone. "Him staying alive and letting the infection continue to course will only hurt him in the future. When he will turn though...I don't know. It depends on him," she huffed.

"I say we put a pickaxe in his head and the dead girl's and be done with it," Daryl said gruffly and made Natasha stop.

"I didn't mean kill him, Daryl," she said strongly with her eyes made of cold steel staring him down. "And it's not anyone's call on whether he lives or dies."

"Is that what you'd want if it were you?" Shane asked him, cocking a brow.

"Yeah," Daryl only said in response, "and I'd thank you while you did it."

Dale tightened his jaw. "I hate to say it… I never thought I would… but maybe Daryl's right." He glanced over and saw Natasha giving him a bewildered look. She said nothing and only looked somewhat disappointed.

"Jim's not a monster, Dale, or some rabid dog," Rick said to him.

"I'm not suggesting…"

"He's sick. A sick man. We start down that road, where do we draw the line?"

"The line's pretty clear." Daryl chimed in. "Zero tolerance for walkers, or them to be."

"What if we can get him help? I heard the C.D.C. was working on a cure." Rick suggested but both Shane and Natasha looked unsure about that course of action.

"I heard that too. Heard a lot of things before the world went to hell." Shane's eyes cast down to the floor.

"What if the C.D.C. is still up and running?" Rick seemed to be the only one with hope still left in his eyes, eyes that he looked over to Natasha with and begging for answers. "You...you said you knew Atlanta, right? Do you think they would still be operational?"

Natasha's face contorted and her voice was riddled with more dread than ever. "I'm not so sure about that one, Rick. Ben told me that the government would protect the C.D.C at all cost, but..." she stuttered and considered whether or not to tell them anything more.

Rick was urgent. "But...?" He tightened his jaw. "Natasha."

Her lips fell down. "I went to the C.D.C, just to check it out, but the place is riddled with Walkers just laying around. From what I saw, it looked like no one was home, but I didn't stick around long enough before I had to bale." She crossed her arms over her chest, optimism fighting against her realism. She wasn't sure if the C.D.C was gone so she couldn't say for sure on the matter, but the government would always be the last thing standing so they would probably just shut the place down, which is why it looked abandoned. "Maybe. Just maybe...it is still up. I couldn't get close to it on my own to be sure, but maybe we will have more of a chance with people and guns."

Shane looked uneasy about Natasha's explanation and wasn't sold on the idea. "Man, that is a stretch right there. But I think our best option would be Fort Benning."

"That's 100 miles in the opposite direction." Lori pointed out.

"That is right. But it's away from the hot zone. Now listen to me. If that place is operational, it'll be heavily armed. We'd be safe there." Shane's option seemed more reasonable since the C.D.C was in the Walker infested city of Atlanta. Everyone wanted shelter and protection, of course, but it's hard to take a risk like that went they got women and children with them who don't even know how to fight.

"The military were on the front lines of this thing. They got overrun. We've all seen that. The C.D.C. is our best choice and Jim's only chance." Rick still seemed hellbent on the idea, or maybe he was just hoping for some structure of the old world that might be still around.

"You go looking for aspirin, do what you need to do." Daryl's eyes traced back over to Jim waiting by the RV. "Someone needs to have some balls to take care of this damn problem!" He turned before everyone could realize what he was doing, seeing him about to take a swing at Jim with the pickaxe. He managed to get up close to him before he felt the pick being twisted out of his grasp at the last moment. Daryl spun around fast to see Natasha backing away from him, pick in hand. His glare was harsh but she looked unbothered by it.

For once, her voice became intensely low, talking slowly so he would be able to hear every ice-cold word. "I know I haven't been here long enough to order anyone around, but I'm sure we're not all callous enough to make the call on whether an innocent man lives or dies. This is what I've come to understand. If you're the first one to threaten the life of another living being...then you automatically lose the right to your own." She held the pick up and flung it into the ground beside her. Her eyebrows cocked and she crossed her arms like she was daring him to make a grab for it.

Shane stepped up between Jim and Daryl with his shotgun resting in his hands, not aiming it but surely making a point. "We're not doing things this way. You back off. Go on," he warned him calmly.

Daryl clenched his jaw and probably had a lot of things to say behind his teeth, but surprisingly he didn't say anything. He just turned around and sauntered off, grabbing the pickaxe along the way while shoulder-checking Natasha too.

After making sure Daryl wasn't going to come back and kill Jim, Rick came by and seized him by his upper arm and began to pull him away. "Come with me," he said.

"Where are you taking me?" Jim asked, somewhat in a daze.

"Somewhere safe."

Natasha watched as Rick took Jim away, the sun beating down on them more intense than ever. Her hand trailed up to her neck and she traced the tattoo inked to her skin, clawing at it as a bitter look passed by her eyes that were supposedly made of steel, but now they looked unresolved and unhealed. Shane was going to thank Natasha for stepping in when she did, but she was already walking away before he could say anything.


	5. Wildfire Part 2

**WILDFIRE PART 2**

It might just be the heat exhaustion but it felt like the sun had intensified its deadly rays upon Rick and Shane. It's almost like they were food inside an oven that was to be cooked to a golden brown. They were sweating profusely through their clothes and their shirts were drenched, covered in thick Georgia red clay from digging graves since early morning. Overall though, they were thankful for Jim for doing most of the work beforehand. They thought the man had lost his mind and randomly started to dig for no reason, surprised to find out that wasn't the case.

It had been a long night and people were still recovering from the shock of the horde that passed through. Their losses were incredible and knowing that they lost manpower was concerning, despite gaining a new member. Natasha. Her skills were useful and her outside knowledge about their surroundings may actually be crucial for them to make it out of this rock prison alive. They might be able to find another place to lie low if the CDC doesn't work out, which Rick was hoping wasn't the case. They need to find some sort of structure, not for Jim's sake alone, but for everyone.

They wanted to know if the old world was still around and hadn't been devoured yet.

Rick stuck his shovel into the thick clay and sighed. He stopped and glanced to his right towards Shane. "Say it," he abruptly said.

Shane had a look about him that knew what his buddy meant. "Okay. I'm thinking if you'd of stayed here, if you'd have looked after your own. Instead, you went off. You took half our manpower with you. I'm thinking maybe our losses wouldn't have been so bad," he said to him, clear and simple and making a point.

Rick could see where he was coming from but still couldn't totally agree with him. "If we hadn't gone off and brought those guns back when we did, I think our losses would have been a lot worse. Maybe the entire camp."

Shane looked like he wanted to say more with the way he tightened his jaw. Probably to call him an idiot for leaving, but he didn't say anything like that. He simply just changed the subject to take his mind off things and calm down. "So who's the girl?" He groaned and soon went back to digging holes.

Rick cocked a brow before going back to work too. "Natasha. She helped us out back in Atlanta. She seems to know what she's doing, so I invited her back to camp."

"She knows how to use a gun?"

"Sure looks that way," Rick shrugged. "Her fiancé was military so I think he might've shown her how to use one."

Shane nodded his head and leaned against his shovel, looking pleased for once. "That's good. We need more people here anyways."

"That's what I thought. She smart and most importantly...she's calm, which is a rare quality that not many people have nowadays."

"Man, you can say that again."

* * *

Natasha couldn't stop her worry and sat patiently by the RV that Amy's cold body laid next to. It's been more than just a couple hours now since she died and got bit, and the whole time, Andrea was still motionlessly sitting next to her. The young woman's eyes were glazed over and it looked like she had dropped off from reality. Not completely though since she was still conscious enough to point a gun at Rick when he tried to take Amy's body, or talk to Dale when he came over to console her.

They physically couldn't take Amy away and that's what was worrying Natasha. Just out of pure concern for some of the people here, she stayed close by to make sure Amy didn't come back and attack her sister. It shouldn't be long now though and it was only a matter of time, less then an hour, she predicted.

Natasha's hands were tucked across her chest but her fingers were only inches away from her pistol. Its safety was off and ready to fire if needed. She was hard-pressed to do it though and didn't want to be the one to abruptly pull the trigger and further traumatize anyone, but survival was more important than feelings now, unfortunately.

She felt her whole body shudder with the near sound of something breaking through a skull. Natasha peered over her shoulder and heaved a bit when she saw Daryl bring his pickaxe down once more over the head of someone's body. She shut her eyes tightly when he moved on to another one.

He was about to bring his pickaxe down again when Carol came up behind him and stopped him with a gentle hand. Her eyes were red and she was sniffling back tears. "I'll do it," she said weakly. "He's my husband."

Daryl looked hesitant about that and Natasha turned her head back around when she heard Carol's voice. He handed the pick over and watched her struggle to bring the heavy thing over her shoulder. She swung down vigorously right over the half-chewed corpse of her husband and punctured his head. Blood poured out from the hole when she yanked the end out, only to bring it down again just as swift and hard. She cried out in frustration and proceeded to let her anger out over his body until his head was totally obliterated.

Natasha's skin turned green with shivers running all over her. She promptly sucked in a deep breath and used the front of her shirt to cover her nose from the smell. After Carol was done venting out her frustration, she walked away. "What was that...?" Natasha walked over to Daryl as he reached down and pulled the pick back up.

He looked just as grim as she did. "That was Ed, her prick of a husband," he answered back gruffly.

They both stared down at the body that had mostly been eaten by Walkers at this point with nothing much remaining. There were teeth marks all over him with pieces of flesh torn right off.

Natasha bit the inside of her cheek and glanced over to Carol. "Abusive?" She had picked up on the odd signs from her a while back. She looked like a timid woman, almost like a frightened mouse running away from large shadows.

Daryl briefly shook his head before swinging the pick over his shoulder. "Yeah." He turned around fast and was getting ready to walk off when he called back to her. "And get ready. You're gonna help with stacking all these bodies on the truck."

"Alright." She figured the faster they put the dead to rest, the easier things will be. If only a little, at least.

There was a sound coming from behind her, faint but struggling to breathe through blood drowned lungs. It was a noise that made Natasha immediately snap her head around and stare downwards. Amy was waking up. Her skin was ghostlike and there was slight movement in her muscles, ominous and unnatural twitching. Amy's eyes fell open but they were milky with deep red veins filling in the whites. She looked up at Andrea as Natasha slowly moved up behind them, prepared for the worse.

"Amy. Amy, I'm sorry," Andrea spoke through quivered breaths. She held onto her sister as her groans worsened, becoming more ferocious and guttural. "I'm sorry for not ever being there. I always thought there would be more time." She reached her gun around to Amy's head and sucked in a deep breath. "I'm here now, Amy. I'm here. I love you."

That single gunshot made Natasha freeze and stand there in place, frozen with her arm still in a position to grab her own pistol. Her eyes widened and she let out a breath when she saw Amy go limp once more and stay that way. Andrea just sat there and remained silent and unresponsive to everything. She hunched over her sister's body and continued to weep over her loss.

* * *

Natasha's head was swimming in the clouds while Daryl drove the truck backwards up the hill to the burial site. She sat quietly on the bed with the rest of the cloth-wrapped bodies with her scarf back around her face to save herself from the ever-worsening stench of the dead. She wondered how many times she had seen people pulled from their loved ones, ripped from their hands to never talk or see them again. Like Andrea and Amy. It was something she had witnessed a thousand times already but still hadn't become desensitized to it yet. She was glad about that though, to know that some humanity remained intact. It was a good thing but also caused fear to raise up, the fear that one day she might stop caring.

Life had always been fleeting even before the world went to ruins, but now just being alive had become flammable. Easily burned and easily lost.

"Hey, you're back there for a reason!" Daryl shouted back when Natasha went quiet. "Am I good?"

Her steel eyes fell down to the floor. She raised her hand and alerted him to stop. "Oh! You're good here!" she answered and the truck came to a quick halt.

Daryl opened the door and jumped out, walking up to Shane and Rick who just got done digging the holes for the dead. The rest of the camp was walking up the hill too. "I still think it's a mistake not burning these bodies. It's what we said we'd do, right? Burn 'em all, wasn't that the idea?"

"At first," Shane said.

"The Chinaman gets all emotional, says it's not the thing to do, we just follow him along? These people need to know who the hell's in charge here, what the rules are."

"There are no rules," Rick said and saw the uneasiness in his wife's eyes.

Her voice was low, struggling to hold back her emotions behind clenched teeth. "Well, that's a problem. We haven't had one minute to hold onto anything of our old selves. We need time to mourn and we need to bury our dead. It's what people do." She took in a shuddered breath and grabbed her son's shoulders, squeezing them tightly.

"We have this time right now. A couple of minutes," Natasha's voice broke through the group of grieving people. She had distanced herself from everyone and stood in the back, arms crossed over her chest, and holding a solemn look on her weathered face. "I don't think we'll have moments like this anymore...to have time to grieve over our losses. Which is why you should take the time you have right now and hold onto it." Her voice was soft, considerate, and understanding. They took her words to heart and proceeded along with the burial.

They were all still strangers to each other but that doesn't really matter anymore. They had one thing in common that sets them all on equal ground. They had losses. Some were smaller than most and others were unparalleled, but the pain was all the same with the bodies that were buried that day. Strangers or not. The living standing beside them was all they had left now.

The whole time, Natasha stood apart from them. She watched silently from the treeline with clouded eyes made from unmatched sorrow. Something stirred inside those same eyes though. A strain of some sort. She was looking straight at them but her gaze seemed to wander beyond that. Like her attention was somewhere else.

* * *

After the funeral, Rick, Natasha, and Lori went to Dale's RV to check up on Jim. He's been there ever since and had Carol been looking after him. He didn't look good though and it seemed that his condition had worsened since they last saw him. He had turned pale with buckets of sweat running off his face and his injury had become infected too. Blood started to seep through the bandages wrapped around his abdomen. Natasha shouldn't be surprised by this result but it still made her clench up with pain and worry for the poor man.

Carol tried her best to wipe the sweat off his forehead but it pained her to see him become so sick in such a short amount of time. She could recall Natasha saying that the change was different for everyone but she never imagined that it would be this quick for him. "His fever is worse," she said.

Lori gazed sadly upon Jim's state. "You need anything?"

Jim blinked a couple of times to think of something. "Uh…water. Could use more water," he said, terribly weak and aching.

"I'll get some."

"Okay."

Lori reached and gestured out to Carol. "Carol, you help me?" she offered and left the RV with her.

Rick sat down and Natasha just stood in the back as usual. She noticed that Jim's eyes were focused on her though.

"Thank you, ma'am," he said suddenly

Natasha cocked a brow and looked puzzled. "What exactly did I do?"

Jim was slow with his words and struggled to come up with something cohesive. He knew it would probably be best to not talk but he just needed to say something to her. Something important. "It's not exactly what you did...it's, uh, what you said. About people not yet callous enough to...kill a man. Even though I should have a grave out there."

Natasha's lips parted and she looked troubled for a moment before smiling. "It's pretty harsh to have a grave prepared for someone who isn't dead yet." She wanted to sound light-hearted since the topic of death was still too hard for her.

Jim burned his eyes into her though, a knowing look on his face. "You know what's gonna happen to me though. You've seen it. I know you've had, but...you're still not willing to lose yourself...to lose...what people use to be."

She slowly felt her lips turned down into a saddened look when she finally realized what he was rambling about. "It doesn't matter what the world is right now. I'm only doing what people _should_ be doing."

A hint of a small smile crossed his overly pale face. He looked pleased by what she said. "That's good. Yeah...it is." His words soon drifted off. "You should...you should hold onto that."

Natasha felt her heart sting before answering him, studdering. "I will...don't worry."

Jim began to groan heavily before he started to cough. Rick was quick to act and gestured Natasha to bring a bucket over. She handed one to Jim for him to spit in. Spit up blood, actually. He leaned his head back and bobbled it side to side. His words slurred together and it was like he was speaking in riddles. "Watch the mangroves. Their roots will gouge the whole boat. You know that, right? Amy is there swimming." He turned to them and began to plea. "You'll watch the boat, right?"

Rick was bewildered at what Jim as talking about and Natasha was just as confused. Even she didn't have answers for his strange delirious behavior.

Rick didn't know what to do and pulled Natasha close before speaking to Jim, talking as earnestly as he could. "Don't worry. We'll watch the boat"

Jim nodded and head and looked relieved. "Okay."

* * *

"So how's Jim?" Dale trailed behind Natasha while they made a small sweep through the woods, making sure there wasn't anything lurking within the overgrowth. Rick and Shane were out there too looking around on the other side of the camp. After what happened last night, no one was willing to take the chance of the undead still being in the area.

Natasha sighed when she spoke but chose to answer him honestly. "Sorry to say but he's not doing good. He's getting sick fast and I really don't know how much time he has left."

Dale's face fell. "Jesus."

She cocked a brow and glanced over her shoulder at him. "I'm not sure he'll help us anymore either."

That comment threw him off guard. "You're not religious?"

Natasha stopped and turned fully to face him, pulling her hood and scarf down in the process. She seemed uncertain and really appeared to be putting a great deal of thought into her words. "Well...I never gave it much thought to begin with. I might've believed at one point, I don't remember though. It felt like such a long time ago."

Dale walked up beside her and continued their sweep. "Yeah...It does. How long has it been? Two months? Three?" he muttered because he still wasn't sure himself.

"Feels longer, doesn't it?" She brought her hand over her eyes like a visor and scanned the forest to pierce the thick trees and bushes. "I do believe that there's a higher power out there, watching us right now while the world burns. I just don't think he cares anymore if he's gonna prolong this."

"You don't think we can get the world back to the way it was?"

"Maybe if I hadn't seen Atlanta go up in flames a few months back, then maybe I would have thought thinks differently." The sharpness of her blunt answer and voice was almost painful to hear. "But no. I think we're on our own."

"What about the CDC? It feels like a pretty good start. We might be able to save Jim?" Dale turned his head up and saw Natasha giving him an odd look. "You look doubtful."

She sighed and pushed ahead a bit to retake the lead. "Sorry. I want to believe that things can be fixed...that we can save Jim. I just have a hard time believing that."

Dale suddenly stopped walking and drew Natasha's attention back on him. He looked troubled about something. About what she said. "That's pretty strange coming from you. Hey, you stopped Daryl from killing Jim and you help Rick and them get out of Atlanta too. I thought you would be more optimistic." He then stopped himself when he realized he was judging her right to her face, despite only knowing her for a day. "Sorry. I think I said too much." he apologized quickly.

Much to his surprise, she did answer him back in her usual calm-as-water voice, expressing her honest feeling to him. "We're all still human, Dale, and I don't want people to forget that. But I also feel like we should be realistic. If you think about it, we're slowly being outnumbered by the dead, and I don't want people to go around killing each other. It won't do us any good." Her lips turned up hopefully but her unsteady voice didn't match. "People...are a resource, you know?"

Dale tilted his head and thought it over. Natasha was more level-headed then he thought and she did make a valid point, as hard as it may sound. "I guess you're right," he replied and groaned.

They continued their walk until they finally met back up with Shane. Something was eerie about him though. He didn't seem to notice them yet and had his shotgun raised out in front of him, aiming at something in the distance that was slightly obscured by the trees. He was aiming his gun at Rick. Shane looked like he was struggling with the decision though and was breathing heavily, his heart racing and arms shaking. He finally took in a sharp gasp and lowered his gun, turning around and noticing Natasha and Dale staring at him, having to have witnessed the whole thing.

Natasha scoffed. "Huh." She turned her nose up and narrowed her eyes skeptically but was still perfectly calm.

Shane chuckled and looked away from her heavy eyes, pretending like they didn't just catch him pointing a gun at his friend. "You were out here too?"

"Yeah...sorry we didn't tell you," she said slowly, eyes still like icy darts.

"Nat, we're gonna have to start wearing reflective vests out here. Seriously." He raised his voice and called out to Rick, whistling loudly. "Come on, man. let's go. Nothing out here." He glanced back to Natasha and Dale one more time before walking off.

It was subtle but not without notice by them. The way Shane looked when he had his sights on Rick. There was a shift in his eyes, a cold one that was very much deadly. It was unsettling and Natasha really did wonder if Shane was willing to pull the trigger.

"Natasha-" Dale began but she quickly cut him off by waving her arm.

"Yeah, I know. I'll watch out for him." She sighed deeply and rolled her eyes to the back of her head. Now having to worry about something other then Walkers.


	6. Wildfire Part 3

**WILDFIRE PART 3**

The cicadas were loud and buzzed tirelessly in Natasha's eardrums until all sounds around her disappeared like water in a desert. She could still make out other sensations. The sun on her face. The wheat brushing against her skin, and the colors shifting within the cloudy sky.

Natasha was dead still, staring off into space with a glazed look in her eyes that told nothing. Silence captured her voice while her mind was ensnared within the sounds of the world. Not once did she blink, breathing very softly until she suddenly felt a hand firmly grasp her shoulder. Natasha gasped sharply and snapped her head around and yanked herself free. She was taken back to see Rick standing behind her.

Rick's face contorted with confusion. "Natasha, I was calling for you. Did you not hear me?" He should have been close enough for her to hear him but she only seemed to react when he touched her shoulder. It even startled her too. "Are you doing alright?" he asked a bit seriously. Rick had noticed for a while now that Natasha was quite distant from everyone. When she was nowhere to be found, he always figured she was on the outskirts of the camp where there would be a view of Atlanta. She would stay over there quite often.

Natasha swallowed hard. "Ye...yeah. Sorry, I did hear you but..." She clenched her hand tightly until her knuckles turned white. "I'm fine. It's just been a wild couple of days and I'm still trying to wrap my head around some things." She rocked her head and got up off the ground to follow Rick back to the campsite. "What's Shane saying? Are we still on our way to the CDC?"

He shrugged. "We're about to find out, which is why I came over to get you. I can tell that he thinks it's a bad idea. Hell, he even said it to my face. Despite things though...he still wants everyone to stick together."

"I'm glad to hear that. Surviving out there alone is harder than you think. You gotta know what you're doing beforehand. How to hunt. How to track. How to survive," she named off.

"And I guess you know how to do those things?"

"I know the basics and that's about it," she shrugged. "I ain't an expert like Daryl but...I know how to stay alive when the time comes for it. I know how to pick my fights and when to run."

Rick already knew of Natasha's rough upbringing since Dale told him, so he decided that right now was the time to bring it up. "Yeah, uh, Dale told me what you use to be. About how you lived when you were young. Is that where you learned all this stuff?" He noticed Natasha's eyes sharpening when she gave him a side glance.

"Kinda. I just learned to keep my head down and figure out my own strengths. Sometimes I would run into the worse kinds of people and my blunt attitude got the better of me way too many times. Like I said though...I knew my strengths. I was light on my feet and my body was small enough to get out of sight fast and hide. Because of a lot of things...I had a pretty bad reputation with some of the gangs in the area.

"And you never got caught?" Rick actually found it funny, knowing that he was a former cop and Natasha was a punk. Just the dynamic alone was enough to laugh at. She could pick up on it too and smiled.

"No. Guess I was smart enough never to something totally stupid." Her smile dulled a bit. "That was a long time though. It was my teen years. I haven't looked back at that life for a long time."

"Looks to me that you mellowed out." he pointed out since the woman she described sounds nothing like the person walking beside him.

"Yeah, I guess I did," she muttered just as they were heading back over to the camp.

Rick gave a gesture over to Shane and signaled him to start since everyone was there and waiting to hear the plan.

Shane nodded and spoke up to the survivors. "Everybody listen up. Those of you with C.B.s, we're gonna be on channel 40. Let's keep the chatter down, okay? Now you got a problem, don't have a C.B., can't get a signal or anything at all, you're gonna hit your horn one time. That'll stop the caravan. Any questions?"

Morales raised his hand slightly and gestured everyone's attention to him. "We're, uh… We're… We're not going."

"We have family in Birmingham. We want to be with our people," his wife Miranda explained to all of them.

Shane didn't look so sure about that since Morales had two young kids with him. Both were around the same age as Carl and Sophia. "You go on your own, you won't have anyone to watch your back," he warned him since he knew staying together was better for survival. Better for his family.

"We'll take the chance. I got to do what's best for my family." The man was steadfast.

"You sure?" Rick asked one last time.

"We talked about it. We're sure."

"All right. Shane."

Both him and Shane went over to the bag of guns and skimmed through it before pulling out a 357 revolver and a box of ammo. Ignoring Daryl's obvious scoffing, they handed both over to Morales and his family. It wasn't much but it wouldn't feel right if they left him with nothing. Hopefully, it was enough to protect his family until they got somewhere safe.

"The box is half full," Shane gave him one last firm handshake.

"Channel 40 if you change your minds. All right?" Rick said

"Yeah."

The rest of the group began to give out tight hugs with tearful eyes and bitter goodbyes. Eliza, Morales's daughter even gave Sophia her own doll before leaving with her family.

Natasha awkwardly stepped away from everyone and waited by Dale's RV. To be honest, leaving Atlanta for good made her feel a bit nervous. She was actually born in Florida and can faintly recall a beach scenery inside her head. After her parents died though she was forcefully moved out to Georgia and never knew anything since. Atlanta had always been her home and in a way, a source of comfort. Her best memories were there, along with the worse ones. It was her life, her home, and the body and soul of her fiancé. Anywhere beyond that was uncharted territory.

* * *

They had a train of at least five cars with everyone scattered among them when they finally hit the road. Natasha decided to ride in Dale's RV to keep a close eye on Jim and make sure he didn't go berserk when the infection got too much for him. Jacqui looked after him as much as she could but could hardly do anything to help as they watch his condition worsen with every small bump in the road. His cries and whines of agony were saddening and it broke their hearts to see how much he had deteriorated over time. The change was happening way to fast for them to keep up with and he was sweating through every bandage they had.

Natasha walked up beside Jim and placed a hand against his forehead and almost immediately pulled it away when she felt his temperature. He was burning hot. Scalding like she had dipped her hand in boiling water. "Jesus..." she muttered and rubbed the back of her burning hand.

Jacqui swallowed hard when she saw Natasha's reaction. "It's bad. These roads are killing him," she spoke through the severe cracking in her voice. "And I...I don't know what to do anymore."

She wasn't the only one who felt that way. Natasha did have an idea but was too afraid to speak up about it. It might feel a bit too inhumane but leaving him like this, to suffer, felt far worse. He didn't deserve to feel this agony. He deserved to rest.

They were only on the road for an hour when there was this loud crackling noise up front, following by a burst of hot air from the engine. When this happened, Dale immediately honked once for the caravan to stop and pulled off to the side. He didn't even look shocked that this happened, just slightly irritated.

"I knew it. I just knew it," he muttered and headed outside with Natasha as everyone crowned around the front of the RV. He popped it opened and a cloud of steam frantically escaped. "I told you we'd never get far on that hose. I said I needed the one from the cube van." Dale turned to Rick when he strolled up to them.

"Can you jury-rig it?" he asked.

"That's all it's been so far. It's more duct tape than hose."

Natasha scoffed and leaned against the RV. "And let me guess. You're outta ducktape."

"How'd you guess?" Dale's lips curled up into a sarcastic smirk.

Shane pulled up his binoculars to see if there was anything around them that could help. He did see something within the distance though, a small structure of some kind. "I see something up ahead. A gas station if we're lucky," he said.

Jacqui then suddenly came rushing out of the RV, looking pale and frantic. "Y'all, Jim… It's bad. I don't think he can take anymore." she urged before running back in with Natasha close behind her.

"Hey, Rick, you want to hold down the fort?" Shane asked. "I'll drive ahead, see what I can bring back."

"Yeah, I'll come along too and I'll back you up," T-Dog volunteered.

"Y'all keep your eyes open now. We'll be right back."

They all began to head off when Natasha stepped out of the RV a minute later, gesturing over to Rick. "Rick, Jim's not looking too good right now. You better get in here."

He nodded and gave her a short wave. "All right." Rick headed inside the RV with her and saw that Jim had gotten worse. He was disheveled and so pale that he resembled either a corpse or a ghost. It was evident that the man was in agony and was even struggling to breathe. "We'll be back on the road soon," he said and sat down.

"Oh no. Christ…" Jim choked up. "My bones… My bones are like glass. Every little bump… God, this ride is killing me. Leave me here. I'm done. Just leave me," he spoke breathlessly. "I want to be with my family."

"I don't think you know what you're asking. The fever… You've been delirious more often than not."

"I know. Don't you think I know?" His voice was weak and distressed. "I'm clear now. In five minutes I may not be. Rick, I know what I'm asking. I want this. Leave me here. Now that's on me. Okay? My decision. Not your failure."

* * *

Reluctantly, Shane and Rick carried Jim outside and up against a nearby tree and left him there. They tried to be as gentle as they could but the moment they put him down, a look of utter peace swept across his sickly pale face. Being inside that small RV was killing him so he couldn't help but smile when he felt the fresh and cool air on his shivering skin.

"Hey, another damn tree," he chuckled to himself and looked up at everyone gathering around him.

"Hey, Jim… I mean, you know it doesn't need to be this." Shane asked but Jim shook his head.

"No. It's good. The breeze feels nice." He leaned his head against the bark of the tree and sighed deeply. For once the world didn't smell like rotting or burnt flesh from bonfires.

Shane still didn't like the decision they were making but knew they couldn't say anything since this was Jim's choice. He wanted to stop fighting. He was ready to go. "Okay. All right." He nodded his head and stood up.

They all started to say their goodbyes to their friend and each one had a little something to say to him, offering up kind words with tears welling up in their eyes. Natasha was the only one who didn't come forth and stood near the back of the group. She wouldn't know what to say to him to ease his passing. She just didn't like the idea of leaving him here to succumb to his fate. A fate she wouldn't even want to fall too.

Everyone soon dispersed and began to walk away from him for the last time. Natasha turned to leave as well but stopped when Jim called out using a weak voice that didn't have any strength left to raise. "Natasha. Can you come here, uh, for a second?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure." Confused, she walked back over to him and kneeled down so he wouldn't have to speak up. "What is it? Something you need?"

Jim's eyes shifted side to side and he opened his mouth a couple of times, seemingly trying to gather the courage to speak. "You...you don't like this idea, do you?"

"I'm pretty sure no one does." She wanted to smile but sadly couldn't give it to him. "I'm sorry but...I know what you're going to become and...do you really want that?"

Jim didn't blink and was speechless at first, trying to process what she said. "Something tells me you have a better suggestion."

"I have one in mind." Natasha quickly looked back at the group before adjusting herself into a sitting position, making small but subtle gestures towards the gun inside her coat. "I know how it may sound but...I think most people would like to die who they are now then fade away into something entirely unfamiliar." She was trying to be gentle with her words but the idea was now starting to dawn on him. What she was offering to do.

Jim swallowed hard and tightened his jaw. "Have you done this before?"

Natasha never broke eye contact with him and begrudgingly told the truth. "Once or twice. "

Out of everyone in the camp, Jim knew that Natasha had more exposure to what was out there in the world. She must've seen and done things that would've made her ask a question like this. Her words didn't feel cold to him though and he could see that there was no malice at all in her eyes.

"You make a pretty convincing argument," he scoffed.

"In my experience...It's not murder. It's mercy." Natasha cast her eyes down and chewed the inside of her cheek. She hated the offer she was giving him but it felt that it was the best route. To be what the world wanted us to become felt like the worse kind of insult. "That's all we can offer people nowadays."

Jim reached out and grasped ahold of Natasha's hand, clenching it so desperately that he finally became teary-eyed. "If that's what you truly think is best then...please," he pleaded.

Natasha enclosed her other hand around his fist and steadied her throbbing heart. "Okay. Give me a second." She got up and headed back over to the group that had stopped by the cars, waiting on her with curious looks on their faces. That soon changed though when they saw the shadow of gloom following at her back.

"Something the matter?" Rick was the first one to ask.

"You're probably not gonna like it but I offered Jim another suggestion and, uh...it was mercy." As she figured, she saw their faces began to contort and look horrified at what she said to them. Others though seemed more understanding. Like Dale, Lori, Shane, and even Andrea. She couldn't make out Daryl's face though and wasn't sure what he was thinking. Or if he was thinking anything at all.

Shane stepped towards her. "And he wants you to do this?"

She nodded. "Yeah, and if it's not too much trouble...to spare the kids, if only a little, can you drive down a little bit? Just until we're out of sight. After that, I'll come back." she spoke in hushed tones, though she had a feeling Carl might've heard her since he buried his face in Lori's stomach.

"You need one of us to stay with you?" Dale reached out and patted Natasha gently on the back.

She shook her head. "No. I wanna do this by myself."

"If you say so." Shane turned back around to the group and ushered everyone to get back into their vehicles so they could give them some privacy.

Natasha didn't dare look up at anyone as they passed by her. She kept her head down the whole time until she heard the roar of multiple engines began to leave. After at least two minutes, the sound faded away and left her in the serenity of the deep back roads of Georgia. The calm sounds of the wind and rustling leaves did their job and calmed her erratic heart after a while.

Jim waited until Natasha walked back over to him. "You got...anyone upstairs waiting for you?" he asked to lighten the gloomy mood.

Natasha moved her body to the side and glanced down at her gun. She pulled the slide back to check and see if there was a round in the chamber. "Yeah," she said while tracing the smooth surface of her engagement ring. "The man who was...who was supposed to be my husband."

Jim's eyes softened. "I'm sorry. What's his name?"

She was about to say '_Ben_' until a thought occurred to her. His full name. The name she was supposed to have been given but never got the chance to earn. "It's Ben. Benjamin Rockafield."

"Ben...okay." He nodded his head slowly and sighed. "I'll tell him you're doing alright."

Natasha looked taken back for a moment and even close to tears as they welled up. Her eyes quickly turned back to steel though and she clenched down on her ready gun. "Thank you."

Jim laughed and tilted his head to the side. "See you on the other side?"

"Yeah, but hopefully not too soon."

There was only a single solitude moment of calmness as the wind swept over the lush sea of trees until that silence was taken away by a gunshot. It was so powerful and disturbing that it made the birds in the surrounding area flap their wings and flee.

* * *

The caravan rolled up to the compound just as night began to slither and slink over all of Atlanta, surrendering everything into darkness. Natasha could still see pretty well at night and can make out the corpses that lined the outside, all of them being swarmed with flies and smelling of absolute rot. It made her pull her scarf tight across her nose and mouth to try and take in her own scent, rather than the decay in the air.

She wishes the kids could've been spared the gruesome sight when they stepped out of their vehicles, clenching ahold of their mothers while the group made the small jog towards the CDC. Shane gave Natasha brief instructions to bring up the rear and watch out for any corpses that would want to wake up, hoping to kill them before any of the rest could stir.

Shane and Rick led the survivors towards the building as quickly as they could. "All right, everybody. Keep moving. Okay, keep moving. Stay together," he ordered.

They reached the compound but everything was locked and the shutters were down, stone quiet with not so much as a peep coming from the other side. Shane tried to force the shutters open but they didn't even budge. There was nothing. No one was here by the looks of it and the sun was dying faster than they could make a decision.

"There's nobody here," T-Dog said.

"Then why are these shutters down?" Rick snapped back.

Natasha took a breath and groaned before closing her eyes to think of a plan and a way out. The sun was down and they were way to close to Atlanta for them to feel safe. Walkers were going to start getting up soon because they were making too much noise. They needed to leave fast and find some other place to hold up. If it was any other situation, she would scout around the building and see if she could find a way inside. Natasha didn't have the time to do that though. Not when it was this dark.

She stood still when her ears picked up on a sound coming from behind her. The sound of dragging feet with labored breathing, like blood bubbling up from the back of someone's throat. Natasha immediately turned her head and swung her knife up towards whatever it was and made contact with the side of a walker's head that was directly behind her, only an arms reach away. "Oh, God!" she shrieked and yanked her knife out.

"Walkers!" Daryl alerted everyone just as Natasha backed up closer to them. "You led us into a graveyard!"

"He made the call," Shane argued back.

"It was the wrong damn call!"

Natasha pulled Daryl away from Shane and forced his eyes on the front. Walkers were starting to wake up and notice them, gathering around like a pack of hungry animals and leaving very little room for escape. It was still possible for everyone to get out alive but they needed to make a decision right now in the next minute.

"Rick, this is a dead-end," Shane said urgently.

Natasha pulled her knife away and reached for the pistol inside her coat. "Rick you need to make a decision now. We can't be this close to the city after dark!" she snapped at him like a snake hissing venom. Stress began to build up inside her and she felt her calm composure starting to crumble with panic. She knew that she needed to stay calm and vigilant but things were getting dark. She was afraid that people were going to start scattering if they got too scared.

"Fort Benning, Rick… Still an option." Shane offered, still trying to pull his best friend away from the door.

"On what? No food, no fuel. That's 100 miles," Andrea shot back.

"125. I checked the map," Glenn chimed in.

"Forget Fort Benning. Natasha's right. We need answers tonight, now," Lori snarled.

Natasha glared into the darkness and could make out all sorts of sounds and at least five walkers shuffling about, getting closer with every limp. Her night vision was decent but total darkness with little artificial light was impossible to pierce through. "Rick..." She inched closer to the women and children as they all huddled at her back. She could even make out the feeling of a small hand clenching ahold of her jacket. Either being Sophia or Carl.

Rick was about to move out with the rest of the group when he caught a glimpse of the security camera moving. It was very faint but he noticed it. "The camera… it moved," he said just as everyone was beginning to make for the cars.

"You imagined it," Shane said.

"It moved. It moved."

"Rick, it is dead, man. It's an automated device. It's gears, okay? They're just winding down. Now come on. Man, just listen to me. Look around this place. It's dead, okay? It's dead. You need to let it go, Rick." Shane tried to pull him away but Rick pushed past him and banged on the shutters.

"I know you're in there. I know you can hear me."

"Rick, there's nobody here!" Lori yelled.

Shane called back to Natasha while he and Lori tried to pull Rick away from the building. "Natasha, get everyone back to the cars. Now!"

"Please, we're desperate. Please help us. We have women, children, no food, hardly any gas left."

"Rick. There's nobody here!"

"We have nowhere else to go." It was like he didn't even hear them. Rick was relentless, totally out of his mind, and confident that someone was watching them through the camera. "Keep your eyes open. If you don't let us in, you're killing us! Please!" he screeched so loudly as Shane hauled him away. "Please help us. You're killing us! You're killing us! You're killing us!"

They were all about to leave when this loud noise stopped them still. The shutters on the building opened up in a flash and bright white light from the inside flooded out and engulfed them all.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**I wanna say this. I don't think this is my best chapter and I'm not really a fan of it. Writing had been such a pain this week and I was more often just wanting to get it over with then make it good. I tried my best though and I promise I'll make the next one better. **

**So please tell me what you think of this chapter and I'll see you next time. **


	7. TS-19 Part 1

**TS-19 PART 1**

One after another, the group of survivors ran into the mysterious white light that looked more welcoming than the grueling darkness of the outside. Natasha lingered behind though to make sure everyone got in safely and that no one was left behind. She kept her back towards everyone and stood ready with a knife in hand, holding up the rear as best as she could while picking off the walkers that got too close to her and everyone else.

Dale stopped by the door and called back urgently to her. "Natasha, hurry up!"

Natasha took a brief glance over her shoulder before snapping back to the horde in front of her. She started to back up quickly towards the door until she was eventually inside the CDC. Only then did they close the doors and locked it to keep the dead out.

They now stood inside a lobby that looked quite empty and dark, aside from a few lights that shined down on them from above. Natasha looked towards the ceiling and quickly figured out that it was the emergency lights that were on and not the main ones, which was strange in of itself. The whole building was eerily still and gave off an ominous feeling that left a cold chill on her skin. There wasn't even a cooling sensation from a working air conditioner either. It was all too quiet for a place like the CDC. She could clearly hear her own heartbeat and nothing else, pattering out of control like a hummingbird in her chest, only to settle a moment later when she figured they were out of danger...for the time being at least.

Natasha walked past the group and over towards the stairs, stopping abruptly when her ears met with the dreadful yet familiar sound of a cocking rifle. "Rick," she called to alarm him that they weren't alone, all the while reaching for her pistol and pointing it out in front of her. She could see now after her eyes adjusted to the darkness, a man hunched over by the stairs with an AR-15 in his hands. "I can see you. Mind coming out?" she spoke gently to him in a way to not scare anyone in her group, but also hoping to calm his itchy trigger finger.

"Anybody infected?" their mysterious man asked, still awkwardly pointing his weapon at them.

"One of our group was," Rick said. "He didn't make it."

The man slowly climbed up the stairs. "Why are you here? What do you want?"

"A chance."

"That's asking an awful lot these days."

Rick hesitated at first while clenching his jaw. "I know."

The man looked between everyone for a moment before shaking his head. "You all submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission," he ordered.

"We can do that." Rick lowered his weapon and motioned for Natasha to do the same, only then did their new host drop his.

"You got stuff to bring in, you do it now. Once this door closes it stays closed," the man said and gestured everyone to follow him towards the elevator when ready. "Vi, seal the main entrance. Kill the power up here." He called out to the unknown and the emergency lights immediately shut off.

Everyone swiftly grabbed their belongings and rushed over to the awaiting elevators as Rick stepped up to the man. "Rick Grimes," he introduced and shook his hand.

"Dr. Edwin Jenner."

* * *

"Doctors always go around packing heat like that?" Daryl eyed the rifle in Jenner's hand.

Jenner laughed a little in response but there was still an unsettling awkwardness inside the tight elevator. "There were plenty left lying around. I familiarized myself," he said.

Natasha's eyes glanced down to the rifle and noticed that he still had it on '_fire_' with his finger resting on the trigger. She slowly reached over and guided his hand away so they wouldn't have a little accident in such a snug space. "Something tells me you're not used to holding one, huh," she regarded the cumbersome way he was holding his weapon. "Keep your finger off the trigger if you're not actually going to shoot us."

Jenner looked down and took her advice by adjusting his grip. "Thank you." He smiled at her, yet that part of him looked awkward too. "Don't worry though. You look harmless enough." Jenner glanced down at Carl who was still holding onto Lori's shirt. "Except you, I'll have to keep my eye on you." He managed to make the kid grin before looking away. Natasha noticed that once he did, the smile on his face immediately faded.

The elevator opened up and the survivors followed Jenner through a long hallway that felt a lot like upstairs. Not a soul to be seen and eerily quiet. You could only find silence like this inside a graveyard.

**"**Are we underground?" Carol asked.

"Are you claustrophobic?"

"A little," she muttered.

"Try not to think about it."

They followed him deeper into the CDC and right into a large pitch-black room.

"Vi, bring up the lights in the big room," he called out and the light instantly turned on one after another, unveiling that they were in a large computer room. "Welcome to zone 5."

"Where is everybody? The other doctors, the staff?" Rick asked since the odd silence was now getting to him. He would have expected it to be bustling with people hard at work. That wasn't the case though. By the looks of it, it was just Jenner here. Alone in the giant CDC.

"I'm it. It's just me here." Jenner said.

"What about the person you were speaking with? Vi?" Lori asked.

"Vi, say hello to our guests. Tell them...welcome."

Just on command, they heard an animatronic voice come over the loudspeaker saying, "Hello, guests. Welcome."

Jenner began to see the change in everyone's eyes as they all realized that he was telling the truth. "I'm all that's left. I'm sorry."

Their disappointment was immeasurable.

* * *

After giving a blood sample for Jenner to test out later, he and the rest of the survivors sat at a round table to have some well-deserved dinner. A simple pasta dish with drinking wine on the side. It was nothing special but it meant the world to everyone else since they haven't eaten in days. It lifted their spirits and laughter was shared around the room. Dale was even trying to convince Lori to let Carl have a taste of wine.

"You know, in Italy, children have a little bit of wine with dinner. And in France," said Dale.

"Well, when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some then." Lori reached over and covered the top of Carl's glass with her hand.

"What's it gonna hurt?" Rick smiled and didn't see the harm in letting Carl having a small sip. "Come on. Come on." He shared a look with his wife for a moment and got her silent approval when she lifted her hand off his cup.

Dale grabbed Carl's cup and filled only half an inch before handing it back to him. "There you are, young lad."

Everyone watched with eager eyes as the young boy held up his cup and was about to have his first taste of wine. He brought it to his mouth and had the smallest sip imaginable before his face scrunched up with disgust and he stuck out his tongue.

"Eww!" he said while handing the wine cup to his mother.

Lori patted his back and poured the rest into her glass. "That's my boy. That's my boy. Good boy."

"Yuck." Carl shook his head to try and get the taste off his tongue. "That tastes nasty."

"Well, just stick to soda pop there, bud," Shane said while glancing over to Lori with an odd look hanging in his eyes. This didn't go unnoticed by Natasha though and she cocked a brow at what he was doing.

"Not you, Glenn." Daryl suddenly cut in while pouring a glass for Glenn

"What?" Glenn said.

"Keep drinking, little man. I want to see how red your face can get." His words were slightly slurred so it was clear at this point that he had a bit too much to drink. He was immensely enjoying the free wine.

Natasha smiled lightly at Daryl's drunken antics and Carl's innocent demeanor before reaching for her own glass of wine. She waited until no one was looking before leaning back and downing the rest of her drink at a record-breaking speed. She looked back and noticed that Carl accidentally saw her though and was staring with wondrous eyes at how she could stomach that disgusting drink. Natasha only smirked at him and held a finger to her lips for him to keep quiet, all the while reaching for a wine bottle to refill her glass. She wasn't aiming to get drunk, just a little tipsy so the edge of being alone for too long could wear off.

Rick looked over to Jenner and saw that he was the only one not enjoying himself. "It seems to me we haven't thanked our host properly," he spoke up and grabbed everyone's attention.

"He is more than just our host," T- Dog chimed in

Both Dale and Natasha raised their glasses to the man. "Hear hear!"

"Booyah!" Daryl said.

"Booyah!"

A round of thanks went to the silent doctor who only smiled a little in response.

Shane seemed a little reluctant to speak but he couldn't help the questions that were itching in the back of his mind. The reason they came all the way here was to get answers. Reassurance. Something. Anything. "So when are you gonna tell us what the Hell happened here, Doc? All the—the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?" Shane finally spoke up and got the whole room to turn quiet.

"We're celebrating, Shane. Don't need to do this now." Rick said.

"Whoa, wait a second. This is why we're here, right? This was your move—supposed to find all the answers. Instead we..." He chuckled awkwardly and gestured to Jenner. "We found him. Found one man, why?"

Jenner lowered his head and nodded slowly. "Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left, went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted."

"Every last one?"

"No, many couldn't face walking out the door. They... opted out. There was a rash of suicides. That was a bad time." His face turned pale, looking absolutely haunted by what he must've seen while being trapped inside this whole time.

"You didn't leave. Why?" Andrea asked him.

"I just kept working, hoping to do some good."

The warm and comforting mood died at that moment and not a single person smile or attempted to laugh anymore. In the end, they finished their food in morbid silence.

Glenn groaned and glanced at Shane. "Dude, you are such a buzzkill, man."

* * *

Jenner later showed them the rest of the living area. "Most of the facility is powered down, including housing, so you'll have to make do here. The couches are comfortable, but there are cots in storage if you like," he said while guiding them through the halls. "There's a rec room down the hall that you kids might enjoy. Just don't plug in the video games, okay?" He warned the kids with his usual awkward smile. "Or anything that draws power. The same applies—if you shower, go easy on the hot water."

Glenn's face brightened up at the mentioned of a hot shower. "Hot water?"

T-Dog smiled like a madman. "That's what the man said."

Everyone began to split up to find their own room, as well as Natasha. She drifted far away from the rest of the group and found a room a few doors down from Rick and Lori's. The way she could describe the inside was like a normal and modern hotel room. There was a large queen-sized bed, a dresser, and a desk and chair. The walls were a light gray, but of course, there weren't any windows. She wasn't complaining though. Being underground did feel a lot safer. Just one entrance and exit door.

Natasha undid the button's on her coat at supersonic speed and tossed it on the bed along with her satchel. She headed towards the bathroom door the next second and closed it behind her. She turned on the shower and waited for it to heat up, all the while stripping down to nothing but her skin. As soon as she saw the steam beginning to escape, she jumped inside and immediately felt the blissful and comforting heat of a normal shower.

* * *

Natasha drew her hand up and swept it across the fogged up mirror until she was able to see her reflection. She had on a stark white robe and her skin was flushed red from the steam. Her auburn hair was brushed out and detangled too but dripping wet and went past her shoulders.

She opened some of the drawers and scanned through them until she found a pair of decent looking scissors that looked sharp enough to challenge the thickness of her hair. She meant to cut it for a while now but never found the time until now.

Natasha brushed her hair out one last time before grabbing a long strip and making a blunt cut right at her shoulders. Her eyes grew wide at what she had just done but knew she couldn't stop now. One after another. Cut after Cut. She continued to snip her hair off until she managed to get it looking into a decent bob cut.

"Oh...what did I just do..." She muffled her giggles against her sealed lips while also trying to convince herself that it wasn't as bad as it looked. Her hair was naturally curly so it'll look a lot different once it dries.

Natasha continued to fiddle and style her hair to the best of her nonexistent abilities when she paused for a moment and turned around, furrowing her brows. There was an odd noise the sounded like something was shaking and echoing loudly through the room. Natasha peeked her head out and looked directly towards the front door...and saw that the knob was shaking violently as if someone was trying to get inside.

There was no initial shock factor with Natasha and she didn't wait around to see what would happen next. She walked straight out of the bathroom and went right towards the door, grabbing the handle and yanking it open a second later while the knob continued to shake. There was nothing outside though. Not a single soul, sound, or person. The halls were completely empty and the shaking knob had stopped the moment she opened the door.

Natasha completely turned ashen and her heart must've skipped a couple of beats at that moment. She didn't say anything and backed up against the wall, staring straight ahead at nothing, yet she was so sure someone was outside her door, shaking it as if they were desperate to get inside.

"What in the... What?" Natasha whispered under her breath. She closed her door but stayed outside in the hallway a bit longer, pushing the towel around her neck to dry her hair off.

Dale strolled around the corner at that time, dressed in the same white robe that Natasha was wearing. He looked up and smiled when he saw her. "You cut your hair," he said in a chipper voice and walked up to her. He did notice that she looked a bit pale. She quickly covered it up though by draping her towel over her head.

"Yeah. I haven't had it cut in a year," she said. "Thought it would be a safer idea to try and keep it short for a while."

"Have you ever done it yourself before?"

"No, first time." Natasha paused and pulled her towel down, smiling awkwardly since she knew where this was going. "Is it obvious?"

He shrugged. "A little."

Natasha snorted and dropped her head, trying in vain to style it to look even a little bit presentable. "I tried to get it as even as possible. I guess it doesn't matter though. It'll kink up when it dries, so you'll never notice." Her smile fell shortly after that. "Dale...have you seen anyone walking around the hallway a minute ago. Like, have you heard footsteps?" she asked, still staring ahead and expecting to see someone come around the corner.

Dale frowned. "No, can't say I have. Why? Did you hear something?"

Natasha hesitated before shrugging lightheartedly. "Nah. Just wanted to be sure we were really alone." She breathed in deeply and patted Dale's back. "I'll talk to you later, Dale." She gave him a small wave before walking down the halls and disappearing after taking a left.

She wanted to be sure that no one else was here, but after roaming the long and quiet halls for a couple of minutes, it quickly dawned on her that Jenner wasn't lying when he said he was the only one inside the CDC...which made her feel a bit unsettled.

The front door for the big room opened up and Natasha walked in, looking around briefly before spotting Jenner at his desk. He only looked up quickly to acknowledge her.

"Guess you didn't find anything weird with the blood." She asked and strolled up behind him.

"Nothing," Jenner said.

"No surprises there," she muttered. "We haven't talked at all so I thought I'd come and thank you myself." Natasha went to lean against the console beside his desk but ended up in a sitting position on the ground instead. She breathed in sharply and buried her face into her hands that were rough and scuffed up. She hadn't slept in days and the exhaustion was now beginning to take over.

Jenner was at a loss for words on how to handle this but tried his best to reassure her. "You all-you all right?

Natasha's voice was trembling a bit but her face remained firm and strong. "I'm fine. I just...been hard-balling it for a while." She pulled her robe across her knees and tucked them close. "You know...I wasn't surprised to hear that there was nothing left. Call it an educated guess. You...you haven't seen it like I have. Not even Rick and his people have seen the full picture of what our world has turned into, and it's not just that... It's the people too." Her voice suddenly turned grim and there was a hint of a growl underneath too. "I actually wasn't always alone...when this started. I was with my best friend for less than a month before we went our separate ways."

Jenner had an idea of what she was talking about and decided to follow along. He was a little curious though, to be honest. "Did you prefer being alone?"

She denied that quickly by shaking her head. "That's not it. People...can't stay alone forever. You mentally wouldn't be able to handle the silence. You have to be around others...to keep yourself sane. I just couldn't do it with him. You really...you really don't know a person until they're backed up into a corner, no matter how long you've known them. People snap, and when they do...it's the ugliest thing you'll ever see." Her tone shifted somewhat and became steady and smooth, a lot different from when she first started to speak. Right now felt more like an acceptance of what must've happened.

"What about you? You're holding it together pretty well," he said but Natasha only boldly scoffed at him.

"I think I snapped a long time ago, even before all this happened. What more can the world throw at me, honestly."

Jenner saw Natasha slowly sink into herself and drop her head into her knees. "It'll all be okay." He leaned down and tapped her shoulder. "It'll be okay." He spoke almost robotically.

* * *

Natasha dipped her head low and made slow strides back to her room after talking with Jenner. The day had dragged on for far too long and the constant spikes of adrenaline she had worn her body out to its limits. She felt tense for the longest time but now that they were legitimately out of danger it gave her the opportunity to calm down and not be on guard so much. When she was still on her own, waking up was exhausting but going to bed was always nerve-racking. Natasha felt like she didn't have to worry about that anymore though.

"Shane. Shane!"

"Just—Okay, Stop. Listen. You love me."

Natasha stopped mid-stride a few feet away from the kitchen when she heard a distressing voice. Lori's voice, actually. And what followed was a low whisper that sounded a lot like Shane, yet his words appeared drawn out and almost incohesive, speaking absolute nonsense like he was drunk.

"Get your hands off me. Get your hands off me!"

Natasha's eyes went wide when she heard struggling and bolted around the corner and into the kitchen to see what was going on. She saw Shane's tall and muscular figure first, pushing Lori against the counter and forcefully moving his hands all around her while she struggled to break free.

Natasha only needed a fraction of a second to understand what was going on before rushing up to them. She moved swiftly and slammed her elbow right into his ribs as hard as she could to make him loosen his grip on her. She then grabbed him by the back of the shirt and ripped him off before stepping between them, holding her arm up like a barrier.

Shane stumbled back a bit and groaned. He was obviously in pain and began to hold his throbbing and bruised side. He now sported a few scratches on his neck that must've come from Lori when Natasha forcefully pulled him off. "Nat...?" he said and squinted his eyes, trying to recognize her through his drunken stooper.

Lori was shaking like mad but was too stunned to say anything and didn't move from behind Natasha. She held on tightly to the back of her robe and didn't dare say anything just yet, afraid of what Shane might do next. Natasha was naturally calm though, but her eyes had never looked so dangerous until this moment. They weren't burning with anger or anything like that. They were just steely cold and unyielding, prepared, and silently threatening Shane to try something else.

"Nat-" Shane tried again but Natasha cut him off with a cool and stern demand.

"No. You're not going to say anything. You're not even going to finish that sentence." She kept her hand up and pointed it towards the door behind him. "You're drunk. I think you need to go to bed. Right now, actually. " Natasha wasn't asking this of him. She was ordering him to do it.

Shane backed away a few steps from them before turning around and walking off. He angrily slammed his fist against the wall before disappearing around the corner. They waited a couple more minutes to make sure he was gone until Lori slowly slid down to the floor. She was still holding on to Natasha though and dragged her down too.

"How much...how much did you hear?" Lori said with a low and trembling voice, not even looking her in the eyes when she spoke

Natasha had a sympathetic look adorned to her face but her frown was deep and confused. "Enough to fill in the blanks," she said gently. "Does Rick know?

Lori shook her head. "No. He doesn't..."

Natasha only nodded once before proceeding to her second question. "Ok... Are you and Shane...still..."

"No..." Lori moved her hand from Natasha's robe to her arm before squeezing it. "Please don't tell him. Natasha, please," she pleaded and was close to tears as all the stress from the last few months finally began to slip from her clutches. The emotion. The struggle. Everything. She wasn't expecting Shane to pull a stunt like that, but she was thankful that Natasha stepped in when she did. Lori was left absolutely dumbfounded though and didn't know what to do anymore.

Natasha tried to calm her down. "I'm not going to say anything. Don't worry, but only because it's not my place. " She groaned and sat down. "Lori...you know you can't keep this secret up. Because it's Shane of all people, you're gonna have to tell Rick eventually," she warned her.

"I know, I know. Just...not now."

Natasha blinked slowly and just looked at her. She didn't press for any more answers but only for the sake of her own guilt of knowing too much. She didn't want to be the one to say anything. She knew that if Rick found out about his wife's infidelity through the grapevine then it would only make him feel worse. The truth had to come out through Lori's mouth and no one else's.

Natasha took in an exhausted breath before standing and pulling Lori up with her. She supported her weak legs while guiding her out of the kitchen and towards the direction of her room.


End file.
